


Regression

by Mona_E_Lisa



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Mikey doesn't deserve this but here we are anyway, Turtle Tots, long fic, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:10:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mona_E_Lisa/pseuds/Mona_E_Lisa
Summary: Michelangelo was not a vengeful person. He didn't care who had killed his father, it didn't matter. What did matter was there was three baby boys, a lost girl and a son left behind in the wake of someone's own vengeful frenzy and this boy, this orphan, had nothing left of what he knew.Reposting from ff.net.





	1. 生死

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so I finally got AO3! Now I can be really bad at updating multiple things. :)

They were so tiny. Mikey had rolled them out on their stomachs, worried that them lying on their backs wasn’t good for their shells. He should be relaxed at how peaceful they were, but the only thing soothing him was the roaring from outside their little cell.

Rather than kill them, they had turned his brothers into babies. It was sick, a cruel twisted joke. When he thought about it, it was likely that Shredder had plotted it to use them against Splinter. To raise them and have them fight him, like he did Karai.

But Splinter was gone too.

“Michelangelo! Move away from the door!”

He picked the boys up and pressed himself to the side of the cell, “We’re clear! Go for it, Leatherhead!”

The door dented and went flying into the opposite wall. It was true, Leatherhead was back! So many things welled in Mikey’s chest; relief that his friend was alive; hope that they might escape; concern as Donnie opened his eyes and started wailing. Leatherhead recoiled at the sound, which was fair Mikey thought. He had probably never seen a baby before.

“Your friends are coming,” he said quietly.

Mikey knew April would already have a sense of the situation; she was getting better with her powers. But it was Casey to take control.

“I’ll take Raph, April can take Don, and Mike you take Leo. Leatherhead will lead. We know where Splinter’s body is. LH will grab it and then we go.”

The plan was simple and not well thought out. But it went without a hitch, save for a bit of baby puke.

-:-

“We’ll need formula, diapers, oh! And we should pick up some binkies too.”

Donnie had rebuilt Metalhead, thank God. Mikey had renamed him Rivet though, telling Donnie, “He’s a different robot. Don’t let Metalhead’s shadow hang over him. That’d be like if I got another cat and named it Klunk 2.”

Rivet had already established his place as a baby sitter. Mikey had no trust in him initially, not after the Metalhead ‘flying face’ fiasco. Not to cradle the babies at least. But he was quick to scan the internet and find DIY instructions on cots and printing off ‘101 Nutrition for Your Baby’.

April had also learnt he was very good at printing off lists so she didn’t have to write it herself.

“And blankets and rags,” Casey chimed. “Babies puke.”

“Oh! And baby wipes!”

April had immersed herself in providing things for the babies to avoid the elephant in the dojo. Leatherhead had placed Splinter in there for the time being and Casey had laid the cleanest sheet he could find over the body. Mikey himself was too busy trying to lull Leo to sleep. Of course Leo, the world’s easiest teenager was the world’s most difficult baby.

“And mattresses for their beds!”

“Bed, April. For now they can share a bed.” Mikey was tired and April understood. She dragged Leatherhead, a notoriously unpredictable mutant she just met, by the finger to the dump with her freshly printed list in hand.

“Mikey,” Casey sighed as the pair left. “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but Splinter-“

“There’s a place in the sewers, it’s big like this. We decided we can burn bodies…” He choked.

“Actually, I was thinking… We have this farmhouse in Northampton. It’s big, and has lots of trees and plenty of fresh air. I can take my dad’s van and we can go for the week.”

There were only a few things murky about the plan. Leatherhead couldn’t come due to the lack of room. But he maintained Mikey didn’t need to worry about him. Also, for his father to ok him going away for a week with ‘just April’ to the middle of nowhere, Casey had to bring his little sister, Shadow.

“That’s alright,” Mikey mumbled. “She should get to say goodbye as well. Rivet can build a box for Splinter’s body. Rivet?”

The robot clambered up to his side, printing a diagram of a long box out of his chest. It had lots of numbers and lines and blah, blah, blah.

“That’s fine,” Mikey said.

“I’ll handle it,” Casey says abruptly. “I’ll plan Splinter’s funeral. You look after your bros.”

They both looked down at Raph and Don, curled up together on a bed of cushions and blankets. Casey was surprised of how accepting Mikey was. He hadn’t freaked out, though he knew it was well over due.

“Why don’t you go see Splinter?” Casey held out his hands for Leo and Mikey handed him over. Casey could remember how protective Raph was of Mikey, that Mikey was arguably the most important person in Raph’s world.

But that Raph was gone. The Raph that used to stand over Mikey and pet his head with affection, sit for hours on end listening to Mikey’s wild ideas and stories was gone and would take sixteen years to come back.

But by then the Mikey he had cherished would be gone.

-:-

Mikey could only stare at Splinter’s cloth covered body before Leatherhead and April returned. Leatherhead had suggested, with a gentle hand against Mikey’s back, that they wrap the open wounds of the body. Maybe even clean him up.

“For what little I knew of the man, he deserved at least that little bit of dignity.”

Mikey agreed, glad he could face this with Leatherhead. They had pulled bandages from the stash kept in the dojo. The wound in Splinter’s gut had long since stopped bleeding and they decided just to cover it completely with bandages rather than clean it.

“I’ll put him in his robe anyway, it won’t be seen” Mikey mumbled, reaching under Splinter to grab the bandage as Leatherhead held his body up. “But I want to brush his fur around his hands and face.”

Splinter looked so peaceful, even with his head lolling around because Leatherhead wasn’t supporting his neck properly. And by stark contrast, Leatherhead thought, Michelangelo looked so ragged, faded but dry eyed.

“How do you think they turned my brothers into babies?” Mikey whispered. And it shocked Leatherhead to realise that Donatello’s intelligence was gone and the only one he could turn to for such answers was Leatherhead. He became acutely aware of how small Michelangelo was making himself, of just how much his voice lacked its usual lustre. He became aware of how crumbled Michelangelo’s pillars were and how he didn’t know how to process what he was feeling without the people he usually turned to.

“It is a procedure used commonly by the Kr- … them”, Leatherhead drawled. “It explains their longevity. They use it so they don’t have to waste so many years breeding and training, when they can just store their information and age back to the point of useable youth but still be properly trained.”

“So, my brother’s memories are gone?”

“An infant’s mind could not hold so much information.”

Michelangelo tied off the bandage and Leatherhead lowered the body. He stood up and moved to kneel next to Michelangelo. He laid his hand against the boy’s back again and let it sink in.

“I’m here for you. We _all_ are.” Slowly, Michelangelo leaned forward and rested his hands against his father’s wrapped stomach. He wailed into the back of his hands, his body jolted with hiccups and gasps for breath. Leatherhead just made the effort to keep his own breathing even, and to keep his hand resting on Michelangelo’s back to ground him.

He’d stop wailing every now and then, but Leatherhead could only guess that maybe a memory would surface and trigger the next bout of tears.

But suddenly Michelangelo stilled. Leatherhead recalled a moment when Donatello had said him and Michelangelo fit well together because they were equally as unpredictable. Michelangelo had long since lost his mask in their escape and his eyes were puffy and his skin blotchy. He shifted slightly and leaned closer to his father’s face. His hand hovered over it, shaking.

“Daddy!” It was a long shriek, unlike anything Leatherhead had heard before. But there was nothing after it. No noise left Michelangelo the rest of the night. And it haunted Leatherhead till the day he himself died.

-:-

Rivet had built the box with no help. Mikey had forgotten all about it and it was Casey again to take the lead and give Rivet his list of things to do.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, Leatherhead?”

“No, Casey. I will be fine here. It is better that this place is not left unmanned. I have said my few goodbyes.”

“Ok. Can you help us carry the… coffin topside?”

“Of course.”

Casey and Leatherhead had struck an odd friendship. In the midst of April’s absolute denial of the situation and Mikey’s forced removal from it, the two had found solace in each other. Neither was close enough to Splinter to mourn him deeply and the regression of the boys struck multiple cords for a variety of different reasons. They shared the feeling of being a bystander.

“Has it been nailed shut?”

“No, the robot has not done it yet. Michelangelo wanted to put some things in there.”

When they walked into the dojo they were greeted with the sight on Mikey adjusting Splinter’s kimono and the little trinkets and pictures Mikey had left him with. He turned around to face the two.

“Is it time to go?”

“Yes, Michelangelo.”

He nodded. Before leaning forward to press a kiss to Splinter’s head and mumble something in Japanese. He pulled the lid over the box and called Rivet to come and nail it.

“I’ll go help April with the boys.” His voice shook and he couldn’t look them in the eye.

-:-

The van ride was beyond awkward. They brought Rivet with them because he put Leatherhead on edge, and he had powered down for the ride, so he was a good as dead. Splinter’s coffin was strapped to the side of the van with Mikey sitting opposite holding the babies in a basket April had picked up. April and Shadow sat in the front with Casey at the wheel.

Yeah, this was the perfect time to explain to Shadow that Splinter was dead.

“What!? How? Why? WHO!?”

Mikey couldn’t help but give a little smile. The young girl twisted in her seat to look at him, distress written all over her face. “Shadow, sit down.”

“I’m going to find who did this!” she roared. “You watch me!”

“I’m glad you’re taking this well, Shadow.” Of course her reaction was to be angry; she was a lot like her brother in that sense. Mikey knew she was fiercely protective of him, which he was thankful for in this moment. It was good to smile, not matter how feeble.

-:-

They left the box on the porch. Casey and Rivet went off to dig the hole, while April, Mikey and Shadow stayed in the house with the babies.

“This is really happening, isn’t?” Mikey couldn’t help the flare of anger in his chest. “Mikey, he’s dead!”

Mikey tried to put himself in her place, but he just couldn’t. He was too weighed down by the burden of being the new head of his family, the burden of adulthood and feeling of being perpetually on the edge of something.

Shadow nudged his hand, “Who’s going to fix the mutants now the Donnie’s a baby?”

Oh.

“Oh my god!” April all but shrieked, standing up and backing herself into a wall. “What’s going to happen to my dad!? We need a retro mutagen! Leatherhead! Leatherhead knows about Kra-“

“April!” Mikey cut her off. “We can’t ask him to do that! You know that. We just have to wait.”

“I’ve done my waiting!” she roared. “I’m done waiting and I’m done losing people!”

“Don’t talk about my brothers like they’re dead!”

The basket was too heavy for Shadow to carry, so she dragged it into the other room.

“They’re babies, Michelangelo! How is that going to help us? We have the Foot and the Kraang to deal with. We can’t exactly go to with an application to pause our war with them for sixteen years so we can play house!”

“And what exactly do you want us to do then?” April recoiled at the harshness of his tone but he didn’t care. She was going to hear this. “This isn’t about you, April. This isn’t about the Foot, or the Kraang or Shedder or whoever! This is about my dad and my brothers! This is about me! _Everything_ I have ever known has been pulled out from under me; I am the last person to do this!”

“You still have _us_!” April whispered, her voice getting gradually louder. “You still have Casey, Leatherhead, even Rivet! We’re here, and your brothers _will_ be back.”

“No they won’t! They’ll grow up, but there’s every chance they’ll be completely different people, April!”

“I won’t let that happen!” she sputtered.

“You can’t do that to them!”

“Stop it!” Shadow stormed into the room. “The babies are trying to sleep. We can yell about this back home, right now we need to focus on what’s important! And that’s Splinter’s funeral and changing turtle diapers!”

She stood there between the two, her hands on her hips, eyes shifting between them. April stormed out, muttering things to herself. Mikey stared after her, grateful she didn’t slam the door. He turned to look at Shadow, who was watching him with careful eyes.

“Why did you do that?” he asked. The girl sighed, and took on a look far too old for her.

“I’m sad Splinter’s gone, like everyone. But fighting isn’t what we should be doing. Everyone’s scared,” she curled her hands to fists, placed them on her hips and puffed out her chest. “Someone has to be brave and take care of all of you!”

Mikey sighed, a smile playing on his lips. “Shadow, you’re six. We’re supposed to be taking care of you.”

“It’s not forever! Just for now. Right now, I’m the least mad and the least sad.” He stuck her hand out to Mikey, pointing her pinkie finger at him. “And I promise to do my job right!”

Mikey wasn’t sure what her job was, but he reached out and looped fingers with her anyway, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“You had better, Rooish.” She grinned. “I was serious about that diaper, you know?”

-:-

Very little was said at the burial. Shadow had stayed back with the babies. It was just Mikey, April, Casey and Rivet. April said a few things. She had collected some flowers when she left after the argument. She kneelt down and gently dropped them down onto the box. She didn’t have any string to tie them with, so when they landed they spread apart, some rolling down the side of the box.

Mikey lead them in prayers, one in English and another in Japanese. April and Casey bowed their heads, holding hands and trying to maintain their composure. Eventually they left, leaving Mikey and Rivet alone.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” he asked, staring at the flowers. “How could you leave me like this?”

Years later he would come to regret those words. Not because he learned why his father died, that always remained a mystery. But he knew, as he matured, that he father would never have left them. He was simply taken in an act of violence which haunted Michelangelo to his grave even without knowing what had happened.

That being said, Michelangelo was not a vengeful person. He didn’t care who had killed his father, it didn’t matter. What did matter was there was three baby boys, a lost girl and a son left behind in the wake of someone’s own vengeful frenzy and this boy, this orphan, had _nothing_ left of what he knew.

“I’m dropping this Miwa thing,” he informed the box. “I don’t have the energy for it and it doesn’t matter anymore. The best I can do for your daughter is let her have the peace of knowing that the man who killed her mother is dead.” He didn’t mean to sound so callous, so unlike himself. Shedder had gotten back into the girl’s head after they had tried to tell her the truth, and twisted it further. And in a way, Shedder had gotten into his head and twisted it.

“I can’t pull everything she’s ever known out from under her, Otōsan. That’s not fair.” He waited for a while, as if for some kind of response. “But I’ll bring Shredder down, one day. She’ll just have to go with him.”

And then the wind blew, and a chill ran down Michelangelo’s spine that made him madder than he had ever been.

“But right now, they aren’t important to me. What’s important this new family I have. My brothers, April, Casey, Leatherhead, everyone that’s left.”

He’d run out of things to say. He fell to his knees and looked down at his hands. He had nothing to say, but so much was left unsaid. Terror welled up in his throat and tears slipped down his cheeks.

_“Mori mo iyagaru, Bon kara saki-nya_ __  
Yuki mo chiratsuku-shi, Ko mo naku-shi  
  
Bon ga kita-tote, Nani ureshi-karo  
Katabira wa nashi, Obi wa nashi  
  
Kono ko you naku, Mori wo ba ijiru  
Mori mo ichi-nichi, Yaseru-yara  
  
Hayo-mo yuki-taya, Kono zaisho koete  
Mukou ni mieru wa, Oya no uchi  
Mukou ni mieru wa, Oya no uchi”

He sung the lullaby, staring down at the flowers waiting again for another response. But all he got was a hand on his back. Rivet had listened and come.

They filled the hole together.

-:-

“Mikey, we need to talk.”

“I know.”

To her credit, April had waited a day before coming to Mikey. She asked if they could do it on the roof, because she wanted to see the stars.

“That’s where I think they go,” she said once they were on the roof. Her neck was arched back, staring into the dotted abyss.

“It’s a nice thought,” Mikey admitted. She knew Mikey wouldn’t believe in it with her, because Donnie had told him otherwise. He knew that a star was a [massive](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stellar_mass), luminous sphere of [plasma](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plasma_\(physics\)) held together by its own [gravity](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gravity), because Donnie had told him so. Michelangelo didn’t believe in a lot of spiritual things like astrology or religion because Donnie would feed him a constant stream of knowledge and tell him how the world worked. And even though Michelangelo was never one to necessarily apply that knowledge, he knew it and he cherished it because his brother taught him it and he believed in it with fibre of his being.

April felt sorry for him. Donatello was gone. Mikey had no one to tell him how the world worked. His world would stop being so amazing, confined to the sewers without Donnie to tell him about space and time.

It all seemed so pointless without him.

“I know what you meant,” April breathed. “When you said everything was pulled out from under you. I’ve been thinking about it and I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you either.”

“No! You should have, you have every right!” She grabbed his hand. “I’ve been thinking about it and… I’m sorry but, I still have my aunt and other family topside. And yeah, Casey, Shadow and I will visit you every day, but we’ll go home and we’ll leave you there. Alone.”

She sounded choked and terrible and she hated herself for what she was saying.

“No, I’ll have-“

“You’ll have a robot, three babies and a mentally unstable alligator. How is that fair?” Now she was mad, authority dripped from her voice. “I’ll miss Splinter, and I know that there’s a chance I’ll never get my dad back. But that’s just a chance. You’ll _never_ get your dad back. This is about you, and I’m sorry I thought I could take that away from you.”

He had cleaned the body, wrapped it, dressed it, arranged it in the coffin, put the coffin in the ground and buried it, but April could see the dawning realisation on Mikey’s face. Splinter was never coming back. _Ever._

“Thank you,” he said weakly, leaning into her as she embraced him.

“We’re going to be ok,” April said after a few moments. “We’ll figure this out. You’ll be ok.”

April repeated this maybe ten times before she convinced herself she was telling the truth. Mikey had fallen asleep about the fifth time, emotionally and physically exhausted.

“It’s ok, little brother,” April said quietly for the final time, before looking up to the sky. “We’ll be ok.”


	2. 連銀のボトル

Everything is twenty-twenty in hindsight. And as such, Michelangelo was realising the down side of not mentioning to his highly unstable, panic prone, doesn’t do surprises friend that there was a cat in their freezer.

“It’s ok, just calm down and leave her in there. Her name is Klunk. She’s my pet.”

Mikey tried to calm Leatherhead down over the phone as best he could. He could only imagine what the state of the kitchen would be, or the whole lair for that matter. It might just be pizza for a while.

“I’m calm, I’m calm.” He could imagine Leatherhead rocking himself back and forth.

“Just leave her in the freezer. There’s plenty of food for her to eat in there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“No, my friend, it is fine. I will just avoid the kitchen until you return.”

Mikey considered shortening their stay, maybe heading home early. They had been there three days. Maybe that was enough. Was it?

“Ok, we’ll see you in a few days. Remember to call if you need something.”

Raph started to grizzle in his arms just as Leatherhead said his goodbyes and hung up. Mikey did his best to shush him before he started wailing, but to no avail.

Oh god. How long do babies cry? How many years? Two? Three?

“Rivet! How longs that formula going to be?”

“Another minute, Mikey!” Shadow called from the kitchen. It was about midnight. Rivet had come up with a routine for feeding the babies and unfortunately everyone within a kilometre radius (April estimated) had to hear about it thanks to Leonardo.

This was great really. He woke the other two up and they demanded to be feed as well. It helped get them all on the same routine. Mikey just wasn’t sure how long he could hold up. Casey said he’d get used to it; he and his dad did when Shadow was born.

Rivet clambered out of the kitchen with three bottles, handing one each to April, Casey and Mikey. This bit he was used to, he could do this bit forever. Just watching them drink and slowly become more and more content before the new warmth in their bellies put them to sleep.

“It’s too bad you’re gonna grow up to be so ugly, Raphie” Mikey mumbled as Raphael finished the last of his bottle.

“Mikey, you can’t say that!” April chastised as Casey dissolved in a fit of giggles.

-:-

The kitchen, as it turns out was untouched. Leatherhead had managed to control himself and smash up the lounge room instead.

“It’s only a couple of craters,” Casey said. “At least the TV is still intact.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Michelangelo.”

“Nah dude,” Mikey waved him off, “its fine I should have told you about Klunk. The floor can be fixed… I think.”

“Sure!” Casey scoffed, “Just fill it in with cement until its level with the rest of the floor.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to find cement in the sewers, Casey?” April asked, running her fingers across the edge of one of the craters.

“Just borrow some from a construction site.”

It went really quiet after that. They had dropped Shadow off home and the babies were sleeping. The four of them just sat in the lounge area taking everything in. But it wasn’t awkward. With all the screaming that had happened in the last week, it was nice to just listen to the trickling waters of the sewers, and the even breathing of each other.

“I’ll probably start going through their rooms tonight,” Mikey said finally, looking at April and Casey. “I’ll start with Leo’s first. There’s a comic convention this week, and it’s not fair that you two keep paying for diapers and formula and whatever. We can sell some of Leo’s Space Heroes stuff.”

Guilt pooled in his gut. Normally they did alright for money, picking up whatever fell on the ground and in the sewers. But that was always a group effort; there was no way Mikey could do that on his own. And the only way Mikey could support his family now was to sell what was once precious to them – things Mikey wasn’t even allowed to touch.

“I know where Raph stashes his really good comics,” Casey said, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking up at the ceiling, “We can get more than a few bucks for them too.”

“And Irma said she has a spare ticket for the convention. I can go and sell it,” April smiled, tears lining her eyes. It was too soon for all of this, to be letting go of the closest things they had of their friends, their brothers.

“You should go now,” Casey suggested. “Go find Irma and tell her what’s happened. We’ll get Rivet to start working on the crib. And I’ll hang back and help with Raph’s room.”

“What about Leatherhead?” April asked.

“Have you left the lair at all this week?” Mikey asked.

“No.”

“Then you can go for a walk, stretch your legs, and get some fresh air.” Mikey smiled up at his friend. “In fact, how about you go back to your old place and get your things and live here?”

Silence followed, before Leatherhead tentatively asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Mikey exclaimed, a little bit of colour coming back to his face.  “You’ll have to hang in the lounge room for a little bit until we get a room clear, but there’s nothing stopping us!”

On some level Michelangelo probably knew his friend couldn’t say no, anything to keep that smile on his face.

“Okay.”

April left, albeit begrudgingly, with Leatherhead escorting her out. Casey’s first step was to get an empty tub from Donnie’s lab.

“The shit ton of empty bug spray cans this dude has needs to go!” he says, pushing open Raph’s door, leaving Mikey to stare down Leo’s.

“You can do this,” he breathed, wringing his hands together. He’d been in Leo’s room plenty of times and he never knocked, why did he feel like he had to now? “I’m being stupid.”

He forced the door open and was hit. Hit by smells, hit by memories, hit in the shin by step up he was taking in his family hierarchy.

Maybe he should wait for next year’s comic convention.

No.

Yes.

No.

_Yes._

_No!_

“Grow up, Michelangelo!” he scolded himself in his best Leo voice. He took a tentative step, like he’s stepping in a mine field, even though Leo’s room is clean and free of stuff on the floor. He gets over to Leo’s ‘prized’ shelf before he realises he doesn’t have anything to put the stuff in. He rushed out to Donnie’s lab, grabbed a tub and starts again. Slow, small steps and some internal scolding.

Mikey tried to put the things on the shelf in the tub in the same order they were on the shelf. He assumed it was important because Leo never did anything just because. There was always something refined about how he did things, something Splinter once told Mikey scared him to see in a teenager.

“Nah,” Mikey said at the time, “I caught him crying over some Space Heroes fanfiction last night. I wouldn’t stress about it too much.”

The tub was full but the shelf only half empty. “Stupid action figures,” Mikey muttered to himself, taking the tub to the living space and getting a bigger tub.

“Dude,” Casey popped his head out of Raph’s room waving an empty can of spray, “the first thing you’re going to do is desensitise Raph to bugs. This shit ain’t healthy.”

“It’s not that bad, is it?”

Casey dragged a tub twice the size of what Mikey had and says, “I haven’t even made a fucking dent. He’s used like a can per bug.”

“Aww geez.”

-:-

April come back a few hours later, laptop in hand. Mikey had cleared all the Space Heroes stuff from his brother’s room, and Casey had finally cleared all the cans from Raph’s and dug up his comics.

“We need to figure out how we’re gonna price this stuff,” April says, booting up her laptop. “I’m not gonna let some greasy nerd rip you off.”

They do it by bit, each individual action figure (which are, by the grace of God, all in their original packets), each comic, each poster or whatever.

“Maybe we should just start an ebay account,” Casey mumbles, holding a packet up to the light. “This is too much for one person to take.”

“Then what do you suggest, Casey?” April asks.

“Maybe just take the _really_ good stuff with you. Find a couple of people to fight it out for it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea!”

The next twenty minutes revolved around setting up a make shift studio in the kitchen. Casey worked on taping a white sheet to the ceiling to hide the fact the photos are being taken in a sewer kitchen, while April got the camera ready.

“I’m gonna go see where Leatherhead is,” Mikey called, patting Rivet’s head on the way out as he worked on the crib.

Leatherhead hadn’t come back, and he admitted having a t-phone would be too much for his nerves and too little for his fingers so Mikey couldn’t call him. Mikey knew he would crush it at some point, and Mikey couldn’t afford to lose too many spares.

Leatherhead was probably just trying to pull himself together. Him moving in with Mikey was a big thing. Leatherhead had never lived with anyone before, so Mikey knew it would take a while for him to make the transition. He’d probably take over a few things at a time, and spend his days in the lair to accustom himself to the constant noises the lair had. And also to the wailing of the babies.

Mikey just wanted to make sure he was ok.

Leatherhead’s lair wasn’t that far from Mikey’s, so checking on him wasn’t a problem. He rapped his knuckles against the door a few times calling Leatherhead’s name.

“Come in.” The voice was quiet and Mikey could tell his friend was probably rocking himself back and forth. He pushed the door open gently, trying to avoid making too sudden a noise.

“Dude, you ok?”

Leatherhead was huddled in the corner, not rocking as Mikey had suspected, but rather staring at what little he owned like it had burnt him.

“I don’t want to be an imposition,” he muttered quietly.

“I asked you to move in,” Mikey said, smiling. “If you’re not ready don’t worry.”

_Because I don’t want to push you away._

_I don’t want you to push me away._

_I don’t want to lose another person._

Those things were left unsaid, but Leatherhead could see them in Mikey’s eyes even though he smiled.

“But I want to.”

“Ok, but don’t feel you need to do it all at once,” Mikey said quietly, sliding down the wall next to Leatherhead. “Slow and steady.”

“That’s never been your style, Michelangelo” Leatherhead says, fiddling with the teddy bear Mikey had gotten for him.

“I guess…” Mikey’s brow furrowed, “Some things just have to change, don’t they?”

-:-

“Mikey!” Casey yelled, dragging Mikey to the kitchen. “We’ve sold so much!”

“I’ve been gone for like half an hour!”

“Well, the auctions aren’t technically over” April said, pointing to her laptop, “But there are loads of watchers on everything we’ve put up so far! It’ll go nuts once it’s closer to the end.”

“Oh.” It was a soft noise, close to a breath. Casey barely heard it and he was standing right next to Mikey.

“How did it go with Leatherhead?”

“It’s gonna be slow, but he’ll get in here eventually.”

“I think it’s good that you invited him to live here,” April said. “But where will he stay?”

“I was thinking Leo’s room, because it’s going to be the easiest.” Mikey rubbed a hand over his face. “Raph’s probably needs to be fumigated from all the bug spray and Donnie’s is just full of stuff.”

“Yeah, Donnie’s room is going to be a problem” Casey groaned. “Everything’s in bits but we’ve got no idea what important and what’s not.”

“We can just leave it for now. What are you going to do about Sensei’s room, Mikey?” April asked quietly.

“Not sure. I haven’t really thought about it. He’s got a lot of photos; I want to keep those, and all his kimonos and things. They all have a family crest on it, we can’t go dumping that in some donation bin, the police will go nuts.”

“Why?” Casey asked.

“Because he’s technically a missing person topside,” Mikey explained quietly. “Maybe I’ll just box them away until I can wear them or something.”

“We can get those vacuum bags so bugs don’t get to them!” April said excitedly.

“I think Raph’s sorted the bug problem, Red” Casey said dryly with a smirk.

“Ha ha. And we can get some albums for Splinter’s photos to keep them safe too.”

It was unspoken, but they all knew Mikey would be moving into Splinter’s room at some point. When the boys got too old to be sharing a room they’d need their own space and with Leatherhead intending to occupy a room, which left Mikey to shift to the bedroom in the dojo.

It was kind of like a game, to see how many times they could bring it up without actually _saying_ it.

-:-

Mikey had no idea what time April and Casey left. It was late and their timing was great because Rivet alerted him it was time to feed the babies and they were too far gone to call back.

The first time he had to feed them all, alone. Rivet was still on a no touching basis with the babies, so Mikey had to find a way to wrangle three babies and three bottles at once.

Donnie started to grumble from the crib. One week, and Mikey already knew whose noises was whose. Gently, he lifted Donnie out, trying his best not to disturb the sleeping Leo and Raph.

“Hey there,” Mikey said as he sat down on the couch. Donnie looked up at him with his big brown eyes, as if waiting for him to say more. But what do you say to a baby? Just as Mikey was about to open his mouth, Donnie started making loud, whiny, ‘I’m hungry’ noises. Mikey quickly stood up and tried rocking Donnie quiet.

“Please, please stop! Rivet, how much longer!?” Some indiscriminate sounding beeps (to Mikey anyway) came from the kitchen. “Now I gotta learn robot _and_ baby. Awesome.”

He could hear Leo and Raph beginning to shift in the crib just as Rivet stepped out of the kitchen, holding a tray with three bottles and a steaming bowl of instant ramen.

“Who’s the ramen for?” Mikey asked dumbly, taking a bottle from the tray and offering it to Donatello. Rivet beeped a bit, and Mikey figured it meant ‘you’. Rivet set the tray on the couch next to Mikey and took a step away.

Mikey had to think when the last time he ate was. It was probably breakfast. He’d completely forgotten about lunch, what with the weight of letting his material ties to his brothers go. Rivet looked at Mikey, as if waiting for something.

“You aren’t gonna let me go unless I eat the ramen, are you?” Rivet turned his head from side to side in a clear ‘no’, his eyes lighting up red. Mikey smiled down at Donnie, gulping away happily at his bottle. “He’s your robot.”

When Donnie finished his bottle, Mikey moved on to feeding Leo, who had begun to wail and then Raph. When all three of the boys are in their crib, bundled up in warm blankets, Mikey can’t help but watch them. They were so peaceful, completely unaware of the turmoil around them.

Rivet beeped at Mikey, warning beeps almost. He sighed and sat down, taking his bowl of ramen and fork. He slurped at his noodles, self-conscious that he was being stared down by a robot. When he finished he presented his empty bowl to Rivet,

“There, are you happy?” The robot scanned the bowl and his eyes lit up green with approval. He took the bowl and tray of bottles, petting Mikey on the head before heading to the kitchen and then the lab to power down for the night.

Mikey cried himself to sleep that night.


	3. 修業

He just wanted to tear them open. Tear them the hell open so he could keep them, so whoever was taking it from him didn’t want it. And just leave it all scattered there in the lounge space.

“This was your idea, Michelangelo. We need the money” he told himself.

And it was good money too. They got a couple of hundred from just selling off action figures and whatever else. Mikey didn’t bother to keep track. He hadn’t had a decent sleep all week.

“Have you eaten?” He jumped at the sound of April’s voice. She was flanked by Rivet; both had their arms crossed with disapproving looks.

“No. I over slept.”

“I’ll just have to make you breakfast then.”

“No!” Mikey leapt up between April and the path to the kitchen. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Hey, my cooking is not that bad!” April huffed and picked up the tub of merchandise. “Is everything in here?”

“Yeah,” Mikey sighed. “That’s everything.”

“I’ll bring you back a pizza, Mikey.” April smiled with a sad look in her eye and turned to leave the lair.

“Bye, Leo” Mikey mumbled to himself when she was gone.

-:-

Leatherhead stared at the small space. He had never been in any of the bedrooms and he felt like he was intruding on some precious, sacred ground.

“I will not need a mattress, Michelangelo” he said quietly.

“I didn’t think you would. I’ve just got to clean out Donnie’s room to keep it in and then I can move the boys into Raph’s old room.”

“They are getting quite big aren’t they?”

“Yep. I’ve had to send Rivet and Casey out to get some wood for new cribs.”

He looked so old. Nearly six months had gone and Leatherhead had never seen Michelangelo don his orange mask, or stay in the dojo long enough to train. Leatherhead had watched his friend slowly let things go, things that without, Michelangelo just wasn’t Michelangelo.

“Will you start training again?” Leatherhead asked, casting his eyes off to the dojo.

“I’ll have to. I remembered Splinter saying he took a break from hard core training when we all got mutated. I do a kata every now and then. I just can’t pick up a weapon again just yet.”

Michelangelo smiled.

Leatherhead hated that smile. So tired, withered, forced.

“May I train with you?”

“What?”

_I know how you hate to do things alone._ “April confessed she would like to continue her training. And I think it would help me with my anger issues.”

“Sure!”

Michelangelo smiled.

Leatherhead loved that smile. So honest, youthful, bright.

I will fight for you, Leatherhead thought; I will keep you from drowning.

Even if that meant fighting Michelangelo himself.

-:-

Play pens were a gift from God, Mikey lamented after playing a long, long game of ‘”I’m the adult come back here!” “But adventure!”’ with Leo.

None of them could walk quite yet, but they could crawl like it was an Olympic sport. And as such, Mikey had panicked and over done it on the child gates. There was a set blocking off the kitchen, one for the entrance to the lair, one for the entrance to the lab (and its garage door padlocked) and a gate blocking off the dojo. But none of them had working doors - the catch of taking things from the dump – so they doubled as hurdles for everyone else. The gates were mostly duct tapped together and haphazardly secured to the wall with nails, screws and some wood.

But Mikey also kept a play pen set up in the living area, so he knew where they were. Or for when he was vacuuming.

Yes, Hamato Michelangelo was vacuuming the lair. Admittedly he wasn’t doing a very good job of it, convinced the thing was trying to choke him to death.

“Why didn’t I get Rivet to do thIS!” Mikey yelped as the vacuum wrapped around his ankle and sent him toppling over. To add insult to injury, one of the boys threw a soft toy from their pen hitting Mikey square in the head. “The universe is trying to tell me something.”

He disentangled himself from the vacuum, but didn’t get up off the floor. The lair was quiet, with only the slight giggles and grunts of the boys echoing around the lair.

_It’s so peaceful._

Mikey wouldn’t have gone so far to say he was at peace; there were a lot of different things still jumbled up inside him. Top of the list being routines, loneliness, lack of sleep, do I want to know what happened to Splinter, yes I do, no I don’t.

“Ugh, I’m not doing that again!” Mikey raked his hands over his face and rolled onto his stomach. It was a fight he had regularly with himself, whether or not he should storm up to Shedder’s tower and demand to know what happened. On the other hand, Splinter only had one wound on him. Mikey didn’t want to see Shredder revel in what Mikey knew had to be his father’s slow, painful demise.

Some things are just meant to be left alone.

Or are they?

Yes, there are.

But-

“NO!” he yelled, jumping up suddenly. The boys stilled in their pen, staring up at him. Great, he scared them. Mikey sighed and bent over to pick up the toy that had been thrown at him. He smiled and said, “And who exactly is responsible for this?”

-:-

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

No.

_NO!_

“This can’t be happening.”

“But it is, Michelangelo!” Shredder roared, twisting the blade in Splinter’s gut. “And it’s all your fault.”

Karai cackled. She had him pinned to the wall, her forearm blocking off his airway.

Fear is not something that bubbles or trickles in your stomach. It pounds in your chest, violently beating your ribcage and tainting the blood running through your veins until you feel it in your toes and you stop breathing and everything just slows and all you can focus on is that _one thing._ Like a spider, or how high up you are, or how small your space is.

Or your father’s blood dribbling down his chin.

_Knock._

“Splinter!”

_Knock._

Shredder pulled the blade out, twisting as he went.

_Thud._

_Knock._

“DAD!”

_Knock._

“Ahh!” he screamed, bolting upright from his bed and rushing to his door to turn the light on.

He was home, he was safe.

_Knock._

Carefully, with shaking hands, Mikey opened the door. Rivet looked in, eyes a bright amber colour.

“Hey Rivet! How are you? Are the boys awake? What’s up?” Rivet beeped at him. Mikey could tell he was unimpressed, a quality he didn’t think could be found in a robot. He sighed, “It was just another nightmare.”

There was a time where Mikey would have rambled, he would have jumped out from behind the door and landed in whoever’s arms were waiting. But he was an adult now, at the tender age of sixteen, nearly seventeen. And adults don’t snivel and cry about some silly nightmare.

Right?

-:-

Michelangelo hadn’t stepped foot in his father’s bedroom since the day they left to bury him. April and Casey had to go in and put all of Splinter’s clothes in vacuum bags because getting rid of all of Leo’s things was hard enough, he couldn’t bear the thought of packing up his father’s things too.

Even though they were just putting them away in storage, so bugs didn’t eat his last connection to his father.

How pathetic is that?

But here he was, standing at the threshold of his father’s room to find _it._

“Come on, Mikey.”

He was doing an overhaul. He had looked at himself in the mirror that morning and couldn’t recognise the skinny boy staring back at him. Things had to change.

First was his diet. He had meagre groceries in his fridge, so he settled for canned beans on toast and some canned peaches. Normally they were reserve stocks for when they weren’t able to reach a grocers, but Mikey had April and Casey for back up.

Second was his routine. He couldn’t shift it too much because the boys were used to it and so was Mikey and he was finally getting some sleep, but he could devote the spare time he used to stare through news reports and soap operas to his training. He figured he’d gotten so thin from a lack of diet, sleep and training. His muscles just felt faded, unaccustomed to lifting more than a baby’s weight.

Yes, we are going to ignore the burden he carries on his shoulders because that’s mostly in his head.

And the third step was his friends. The only time he saw April and Casey anymore was when they dropped off supplies, and he hadn’t seen Shadow in weeks. He only saw Leatherhead regularly once a week for lunch, what with the babies still being so loud, small and fragile.

So, in an attempt to fix his problems Mikey set out to find _it_. Splinter had anticipated a day when he would not be around to guide his sons in their training. He had everything any self-teaching ninja could need in a trunk, locked tightly and kept away from unnecessary eyes (and feet).

Michelangelo had been one of them.

Leonardo knew where the chest was kept and so did Donatello. It was somewhere underneath Splinter’s bedroom floor. Donatello had helped to build the compartment and Leo knew about it naturally because he was the leader. Mikey and Raph tended to block out all conversation of the damn thing because they didn’t like what it represented or what it meant for their future.

Poor Raph, Mikey thought, he spent all that time loathing something that would never affect him.

After about twenty minutes of rapping his knuckles against the floor, Mikey figured Donnie wouldn’t leave the hole too hollow to be found so simply. Knowing Mikey’s luck Donnie probably buried it twenty feet deep with a missile launching robot, more padlocks than there are keys and three voice activated locks, one of which only responds to Swedish.

But it would also be Mikey’s luck that Donnie wrote all that down and put it somewhere in him lab. Because _it’s not science unless you write it down._ And Donnie was a bit of a hoarder.

Which was actually great for Mikey. For anything to migrate from the lab to Donnie’s room he had to like working on it. A t-phone he was planning to upgrade would make the cut but not a t-phone that needed repairs, so most things in the lab Donnie remained firmly detached from as responsibilities, which made for ample, guilt free snooping.

Ok, so snooping was the wrong word given the situation, but this expedition was all about rejuvenation and bringing back the old Michelangelo, the snoop-master!

And it was never that hard. He just had to go for whatever had a “MIKEY DO NOT TOUCH!” label on it and he generally got a reaction (sometimes the reaction would come from Mikey on the few occasions Donnie planted something to try and ward him off for a while, like the ‘oozing file incident’ which _will never be brought up ever._ If you must know, when Donnie pranked, he pranked _hard_ ).

Red labels were usually the first thing on Mikey’s list to sniff out, but things with locks were too difficult it meddle with so he left them. But not today! Today anything with a lock was probably his best bet. This was important stuff he was looking for; Donnie wouldn’t just leave it lying around.

-:-

An hour, probably more, and nothing! He had found nothing! Mikey was starting to wish Donnie was more of an organised hoarder. This was no fun, it was draining flipping through every notebook he could find, thumbing through every idea Donnie’s ever had. He even still had the battleship plans him and Mikey had drawn up as kids in crayon.

“Splinter probably took them and burnt them or something,” Mikey groaned as he carefully slid a note book back into Donnie’s desk drawer. “At least I know how to fix the fridge now if I need to.”

He didn’t really. He just knew what notebook to read to find out how.

Mikey glanced at the clock on the desk, checking if the boys were due for a feed. They weren’t, but he didn’t feel like searching anymore and he _was not_ going to fall back into the habit of watching bad soap operas and home shopping channels.

_“Beep beep beep.”_

_Thump._

“Huh, what is it Riv- _how the heck did you find it!?”_

Of course Donnie would have told the robot, of course! Rivet nudged the trunk further into the lab with his foot and tapped his temple, his eyes glowing a funny blue colour.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Like when I told you I was going to go looking for it!?”

Rivet shrugged and Mikey swore if the damn robot had a mouth it’d be smirking at him. He was getting sassed by a robot!

_“Bloop.”_

“How _dare_ you bloop me!?”

Rivet sniggered – _sniggered_ , Mikey thought, who does he think buys his oil? - and left Mikey to his own devices.

“It’s locked,” Mikey mumbled, tugging at the padlock latched onto the trunk. Just his luck. Now he’d probably have to spend another hour looking for a key until Rivet decided to troll him with the key.

Nah. Mikey knew where the bolt cutters were. That’s one mistake Donnie was never able to live down. He’d just break the lock and get moving.

-:-

_My dear sons,_

“Nope,” Mikey sighed, “Just son.”

_If you are reading this, then the worst has happened. It hurts me to write this, especially with you all being so young._

Did he really have to do this? He wasn’t supposed to read this. This was written with the intention of Leo reading out, not Mikey to himself.

_I can only hope you are all doing well._

“Nope! Nope, I’m done! Too much!” Mikey yelled, scrunching the note up and throwing it into some god forsaken corner of the lab. That could wait. It’s not like he didn’t know what the letter was going to say anyway. It just felt so wrong, right down in his stomach, reading it. It wasn’t meant for him it was meant for _them_. All of them. Had it been addressed to ‘ _My dear Michelangelo_ ’ he might have been able to eventually get through it regardless of the mess it would make him.

But he couldn’t afford to become that mess. There were too many people depending on him.

And that’s not a feeling he was used too.

Everything in the trunk was written in Japanese like he thought it would be, so he couldn’t just send April home with a scroll as an assignment. He smiled and pulled out his t-phone and sent a text to April.

_You may call me sensei._

A minute went and then: _You found it!?_

_Eventually. We can start training next week. I need to wrap my head around everything in here._

_:D!_

Mikey laughed and turned back to the trunk. Some of this stuff was old and he felt weird touching it, worried it would turn to dust.

“Now you’re being dumb, Mikey.” And just like that, his smile was gone.

-:-

“Heck yeah! Let’s do this!” Shadow shouted, waving her fists wildly in the air. “I wanna be a ninjette!”

“The word for a girl ninja is kunoichi, Shadow. Not ninjette,” Mikey laughed as he led her to the dojo. April and Casey followed closely behind. The boys were playing quietly in their play pen, set up under the tree. Any and all weapons were far away on the other side of the dojo, well out of reach.

“Is Leatherhead not joining us?” April asked.

“No. He comes and trains with me at night when the boys are asleep. It’s easier that way, especially with Raph’s old room cleared out.”

“Enough talking, let’s get to fighting!” Shadow said, darting towards the closest weapons stand.

“Not so fast!” Mikey cried, catching her by the back of her shirt. “You’re not ready for a weapon yet.”

“Boo” Shadow pouted.

“We have to stretch first. April, Casey?”

“I’m not joining,” Casey said. “I’m fine with the way I fight.”

“You could at least help us spar. You could stand to learn a thing or two,” April teased, poking Casey in the ribs.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”

“There will strictly be no flirting in _my_ dojo!” Mikey warned, earning a giggle from Shadow. April and Casey both went pink and sat down to stretch.

“This is gonna be so cool!” Shadow rambled. “I wanna use the swords!”

“Not yet,” Casey grumbled. “And you’re not bringing anything home. Dad will kill me.”

“But I’ll need to practice at home if I want to get any good!”

“You can practice at home. You just can’t practice with any weapons.”

“You do,” Shadow sneered.

“A sword is different from a baseball bat, Shadow” Mikey leaned over to pat her on the head. “If Casey hurts himself practicing that’s fine, we can replace him. New York is bursting with street thugs. But we’re a little short on kunoichi.”

“Sensei Mikey is right,” April smiled, giving Casey a side eye. “You have to listen to him.”

“Or I won’t bring you back down here” Casey warned.

Mikey could see Shadow trying to gauge how serious her brother was, so he put on his best serious face. He really didn’t want to deal with Shadow stealing weapons and then bringing them back as if to prove how good a ninja she was (and he’s pretty sure she would at least try it).

“When can I start using weapons?” Shadow asked.

“When you’re twenty” Casey mumbled, earning a glare.

“Depends how well you do,” Mikey said, standing up. “Who’s ready for some training?”

“I am!” April cheered, shaking Casey by the shoulder. “Ready to lose?”

Mikey sent April and Casey off to one side of the dojo to spar. The idea was to warm April up a little bit more and to help her bring everything she knew ninjustu wise to the forefront of her mind. That’s how Splinter helped to get Mikey focused for training, with a quick spar first up. Mikey and Shadow stayed close to the play pen. He showed her very basic stances, some punches and kicks. He honestly didn’t know where to start, and all of Splinter’s notes were on what to teach an already established ninja. Mikey just counted himself lucky Shadow was a better student than he ever was.

“This’ll be good practice for you when the babies grow up, huh Rooish?” Shadow said between punches. “You’re a really good teacher.”

“It’s Sensei Rooish when we’re in here, Shadow” Mikey said lightly. “Do you really think so?”

Shadow stopped her round of punches, turned to him and bowed. “I really do, Sensei.”

_Michelangelo, no, no! Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare cry! It’ll undermine your authority!_

Who was he kidding? He’d never used the word undermine in his life.

“Thanks, Shadow.”

Training went on for another hour before Casey and Shadow had to leave. Mikey had spent most of the switching between Shadow and April, coaching her through her sparring with Casey, which had become much slower and more calculated than it had started.

“What do we do now, Sensei?” April chirped after saying goodbye to Casey and Shadow.

“Katas.”

They went on for another hour, going through katas, learning new moves and sparring, before Raph started screaming his signature ‘I’m bored as all heck’ scream demanding attention. Mikey and April decided to take a break, lying down with the boys in the play pen.

“I’ve really enjoyed this,” April said quietly. “It’s good to see you a little bit greener.”

“I _feel_ greener” Mikey laughed as he shook a toy at Raph. “I’m not too sure about teaching though.”

“I think you’re a good teacher. Just… just don’t try and be like Master Splinter was. Be you.”

“It probably isn’t totally right for you to call me Sensei,” Mikey said. “Senpai is probably more appropriate.”

“Oh, senpai!” April pretended to swoon, with her backhand pressed to her forehead.

“I feel like you’re mocking me.”

“You’d be right.”

They laughed. For the first time in a long time, they laughed and just talked - like they used to, like they were young again.

“Same time tomorrow?” April asked before she left.

“Yeah. Bring your tessen and we’ll have a _real_ spar.”

“You’re on.”

And for once, when she left, Michelangelo didn’t feel like his home was emptier for it. It felt fuller.


	4. 抱擁と涙

Michelangelo never thought he’d dread Christmas. The thought of it would have sent him into a fit years ago. Ever since Splinter was able to trust Michelangelo with a ladder on his own the lair was always decorated with some gaudy tinsel and flickering lights.

But now he had three teething toddlers screaming in his ears, a migraine that was about three days old, and he hadn’t been out the lair in nearly _four weeks_.

“Do I _look like_ I want to do a Christmas dinner, April?” Mikey snapped. “I don’t even really want to do dinner tonight!” He crammed his mop and bucket into the tall cupboard in the corner of the kitchen. “Aren’t you doing something with your aunt anyway? Why would you want to spend Christmas down here?”

“You skipped out on Thanks Giving, remember?” April put her hands firmly on her hips. “You’ve spent too long down here.”

“I’ve been busy. Raising three kids takes up a lot of my time.”

“That’s an excuse. Ever since the Mutanimals took over beating up the Kraang you’ve completely withdrawn from the outside world. Casey and I can’t keep getting groceries for you.” April pouted and threw a longing look to the lounge room. “You haven’t even put up any lights, or your tree.”

Mikey frowned at the thought of his little Christmas tree. It wasn’t even half his height and judging by its merit alone it was the most pathetic thing he owned. The only reason it stood upright was because Mikey had taped a ruler to the tree’s snapped spine. Last he saw it was-

“I threw that out a month ago” he mumbled.

“ _Why_ would you do that?” April cried, “You loved that tree.”

He had loved that tree. He was meticulous in decorating it with tinsel and lights, so much so that you couldn’t tell that it had no leaves. He’d found it while cleaning out his own room after a grand epiphany of just how much _crap he owned that a small child could choke on._ It was in a raggedy box at the top of his wardrobe. He didn’t react immediately but before he knew it he was storming out of the lair throwing Casey a terse _I’ll be back soon_ and then top side, smashing every bauble, tearing every shred of tinsel, snapping the tree in half, and tossing is all in the first dumpster he could find.

“I guess I wanted to start fresh,” Mikey shrugged, deciding to not tell April about the inexplicable anger he felt about the tree. “The boys aren’t going to remember anything this year, I really just don’t want to think about it.”

“But… but its Christmas.” Mikey rolled his eyes at April’s pouting and started digging out vegetables from the fridge.

“I know that. Look, you can babysit tomorrow night and I’ll go out with Leatherhead and get food. Just do me a favour and drop the Christmas topic.”

“Will you at least call me Christmas night?”

“Yes. I’ll call, now can we please drop it? I have a headache.”

-:-

“Something troubles you, my friend.”

Mikey readjusted his grip on his grocery bag. He and Leatherhead were heading back to the lair after picking up some groceries. “It’s Christmas. I’m not looking forward to it.”

He really didn’t want to think about it. How he used to get all his brothers and father up a whatever time was agreed upon the night before and cook them a special Christmas breakfast. Every year Leo’s eyes would widen at the work load Mikey set himself and insist on helping, and Raph would remark how that was a bad idea because Leo could burn water, and Don would hum with agreement. Splinter would simply smile and sip whatever Christmas themed tea Mikey had insisted he drink.

“Would you like me to come and have dinner with you?” Leatherhead asked.

“If you want to. I don’t really want to have to do anything big though.”

“That is fine, Michelangelo. It’ll will be my first Christmas. It may be best to start small.”

Mikey’s eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. “You’ve never celebrated Christmas?”

Leatherhead kept walking, tilting his head back to Mikey. “Of course not. Why would I?”

That made a lot of sense. Mikey felt bad, he’d completely forgotten about Leatherhead. The guy was almost ready to move in properly and he hadn’t even thought to invite the guy to Christmas (as sombre and self-pitying it was going to be).

“We shouldn’t be alone for Christmas,” Mikey straightened his shoulders and jogged to catch up with Leatherhead. “I’ll do dinner. Just dinner. Invite the Mutanimals. I’ll let April and Casey know. I’ll make soup and a pudding or something.”

“And some bread for Pete.”

“And bread for Pete.” Mikey nodded. He was going to do this, he had to try. He would have all morning to feel sorry for himself. “No presents. I don’t have time for that. I already have a present for you though. You’ll have to come over before everyone else does.”

“Very well. I look forward to it. I’m glad you’re doing this.”

Mikey smirked. “Did April put you up to this?”

“Not at all.” Leatherhead smiled and Mikey knew he wasn’t lying. “I just didn’t think it was right you were alone on Christmas.”

-:-

Christmas morning Mikey was woken up to the sound of a screaming child.

“I can’t wait for this teething phase to be over,” he mumbled, slowly sliding out of bed and trudging out to the babies’ room.

“Come on, who’s grumpy?” He yawned as he slipped into the room. He was greeted by Leo’s wide blue eyes and teary, snotty face. As Mikey got close Leo stuck his arms up, only quieting down when Mikey picked him up and started rubbing his back. “Not a big fan of Christmas?”

Mikey cringed as Leo rubbed his little face across his shoulder. He needed a shower anyway and he supposed it was better to have a snotty shoulder than a vomit covered shell (an indecent punishment he wasn’t sure he deserved). He slipped out of the room with his little bundle and slowly padded his way to the bathroom.

“How about a shower? We can clean your face and my shoulder.” Leo just yawned and hid his face his Mikey neck. “Hey, you woke me up.”

Their bathroom set up with pretty simple. On the right was the bath, an old porcelain pink thing Splinter had ripped out of some condemned building and managed to drag into the sewers. They never bothered with a shower curtain. The whole lair felt damp most of the time anyway, a shower curtain just meant there would be another thing to clean. The shower head was just a pipe coming out of the ceiling and a garden hose nozzle Donatello had fashioned years ago. Propped against the wall just next to the bath (with a very carefully built child proof guard around it) was their old water boiler.

Mikey stepped into the bath and turned the tap built into the wall. Leo’s head picked up as the water started to fall. Mikey smiled as he watched his brother try and follow the water with his eyes. Mikey reached his hand under the stream to checked the temperature, chuckling as Leo tried to do the same in vain but couldn’t quite reach. Mikey took his wet hand and quickly wiped it across Leo’s face, earning a few whines.

“Trust me, this is better than a crusty face,” Mikey stuck his tongue out at Leo’s look of pure indignation. “I’ve had enough of them to know.”

Slowly, Mikey backed into the water stream. He tilted his head back and let the water run down his face briefly. “What do you think, Leo? Look like fun?”

Leo watched with wide eyes, moving his hands in and out of the stream. He gasped a little bit, his eyes dancing with wonder.

Mikey had read on those ‘mummy blogs’ that this was a magical thing, introducing a baby to the shower for the first time. Well, it was half and half. One half ended in screaming and tears. And the other half was more like this. Wonder and trust and something else Mikey couldn’t pin point that he could only describe as good. He reached down to grab the wash cloth hanging over the edge of the bath. He started to wipe Leo’s face. Mikey thought Leo might protest, but he was too focused on the water to be bothered.

“Thanks for making this easy, Leo.” Mikey smiled and kissed Leo’s forehead, just as the sound of the other two waking up reached his ears. “Shell knows the rest of today won’t be.”

-:-

Mikey vaguely registered that Slash was giving him a weird look. But he ignored it pretty well, focusing on his soup and preventing Pete from eating all the bread in the kitchen.

“No! I bought you the good stuff, you can wait until dinner!”

“Ahh let the guy eat,” Slash grumbled as Mikey wrestled Pete out of the kitchen.

“No, Michelangelo is correct.” Rockwell took Pete by the elbow and directed him to the TV. “He has gone to the trouble of making us dinner, be polite and wait.”

Mikey was sure Rockwell was using his powers to calm Pete down and he wasn’t completely sure how he felt about that but he said thanks anyway and ducked back into the kitchen.

“Where are they?” Mikey spun on his heels to face Slash’s glare. Everyone else was in the main part of the lair. April and Casey weren’t able to get away from their families. Mikey figured he’d have to stay up late to call April like he promised or just not bother and send her a text and fall asleep before she calls to make him regret it.

“Where are who?”

“The _guys._ ”

Oh.

Ohh.

“They’re sleeping. Why?”

“Curious. I want to see them.”

“No, they’re sleeping. Your tip toe is a stomp you’ll wake them before you even open the door.” Mikey laughed, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest. Slash was still glaring. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No.” Slash grunted and turned to leave.

“Then why the attitude?”

Where did that come from? Maybe it was the stress of cooking for two giants and three others, or maybe it was because he hadn’t had that one-hour cry like he’d wanted. Either way he wasn’t in the mood for… whatever this was.

“What?”

“You heard me. You’ve been glaring at me every chance you get. I must have said something in the twenty minutes you’ve been here, because I haven’t even _seen_ you in the last seven months. Not to pay your respects or just to say hi.” Don’t cry, don’t cry over _Slash_.

“You never offered.” Oh, this guy had the nerve to sound annoyed.

“Of course I didn’t, you idiot! Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me? I’m pretty much stuck down here being miserable! I don’t ask anyone to visit because it’s awful here! I’m awful! Everything about this is awful and it would have been nice if the one person who could even come close to what I’m feeling had given a crud!”

“…Wow.”

Yeah, wow. At the risk of being repetitive, where did _that_ come from? Aside from the occasional cry under his bedsheets Mikey had never been so emotional about Slash. And it really all was true. He tried to even out his breathing, only just realising he’d been yelling. Everyone in the lair was sure to have heard him.

_I’m so calling April tonight._

“If you want to see them you’ll have to ring me or something and we can sort it out.” Mikey rubbed his hands against his face and turned away from Slash to stir his soup. “we can have lunch or-“

“Forget it” Slash growled and left the kitchen. Mikey had half a mind to keep yelling at him, but it was Christmas. He always hated it when his family fought on Christmas.

-:-

As Slash was leaving, Mikey quietly slipped him a neatly wrapped box.

“I thought you said no presents.”

“I did. This is different.”

Slash didn’t unwrap his gift there. Mikey knew he’d wait until he was alone to open it. He had decided to give Slash Raphael’s old sais. He knew the guy would probably have his own sort of shrine.

As he waved Slash away from the turnstiles Mikey felt the soft pressure of Leatherhead’s hand on his back.

“That was a very kind gesture.”

“Slash loved Raph. I don’t think it’s fair that he has nothing just because he’s not that great to me.” Mikey shrugged and smiled up at Leatherhead. “How about we unwrap our presents now?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Leatherhead slowly followed his friend to the pit of the living room.

“No time like the present, huh?” Mikey laughed with a cheesy grin. “Wait right here. I kept your present in my room. Close your eyes!”

Leatherhead did as he was told and sat down. Listening to the shuffle of Michelangelo darting off was amusing. Not all that long ago the only sound the boy made was the drag of his feet against the ground. But now it was more like when they had first met, even after the altercation during the night. Which both parties had pretended didn’t happen quite brilliantly.

“Ok, you ready?”

The crinkle of paper and the excitement in Michelangelo’s voice made Leatherhead smile as he nodded and opened his eyes. Mikey held an oddly shaped present about half his height, wrapped in a multitude of different papers and complete with a stick on bow. Gently, Leatherhead took it in his hand, and handed Michelangelo his gift with the other. It was a decorated box (that he had April buy on his behalf) about the size for Mikey’s head.

He watched Mikey take the lid off the box as he slowly knelt down on the floor. He watched his friend’s eyes widen as he picked out a coffee mug with _#1 Best Friend_ printed on the side in bold black letters.

“This is the best thing ever,” Mikey mumbled, tilting the mug in his hand. “I’m gonna drink out of it every day.”

“I’m glad.” Leatherhead gently started to tear away the paper from his present as Mikey began to marvel at the plush toy alligator and turtle shaped book mark left in the box. As he tore the paper of his present away, he was greeted with a giant teddy bear, with its own orange mask.

“Do you like it?”

How could he not? The nervous quiver in his friend’s voice was saddening. Leatherhead wondered when Michelangelo had started to doubt himself. One of the things Leatherhead had always admired about him was is confidence and conviction in his actions. Maybe it was just first Christmas time nerves that he wouldn’t worry about next year.

“He is perfect. Thank you, Michelangelo.” He put the bear to the side and opened his arms to his friend. Quickly Michelangelo jumped into the hug, and they stayed there for the night, under the soft glow of the Christmas light Mikey had haphazardly pined to the walls. They stayed together like they always had, listening to each other’s gentle breathing, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. Safe with one another.

It was the first peaceful sleep either of them had had in a long time.

-:-

“How did you convince me to do this?” April grumbled, holding two pieces of wood together. She levelled a glare at Mikey as he rummaged through the tool box. “And how did I not think to ask how you broke one of the cribs?”

“ _I_ didn’t break anything.  Leatherhead swung his tail too wide in training and broke the child guards to the dojo. I asked Rivet to fix it, but quickly. So instead of trying to find anything at the dump he took apart one of the cribs.”

“And you didn’t realise until this morning?”

“He moved Donnie into Raph’s crib.”

“You freaked out didn’t you?”

“I may have assumed the crib ate Donnie and ran away.”

“HA! What I wouldn’t give to see that!” April laughed and her grip on the wood slipped.

“Hold it still or you’ll get a nail in the hand. Or worse,” Mikey snapped. This was not his thing, nails and hammers, or any kind of building for that matter.

“Just get Rivet to do it.”

“He refused. He thinks because two babies can fit in one crib that building a third is a waste of time.”

“That doesn’t sound like Rivet.”

“That’s because he’s always on his best behaviour when you’re here.”

“He’s a robot, Mikey.”

“Donnie built him! Of course he’s gonna go bolt over steel for you!”

April snorted as Mikey wacked a nail with the hammer. “Was that supposed to be the robot version of head over heels?”

“My humour is slipping, cut me a bit of slack.”

“You know what you need? A vacation!”

“I’m not going to Northampton.”

_A year_. It had almost been a year. It felt like so much longer.

“What about a birthday party?”

“What?”

“For the boys!” April beamed. Clearly she had already planned it all out in her head. “I’ve bought them some toys. I want to see them unwrap them!”

Mikey hadn’t thought about that. Should he have? He didn’t even have high chairs for his brothers, or cutlery made for babies, let alone birthday presents.

“Wait, if you don’t have high chairs how do you feed the boys?”

Oh crap.

Did he say that out load?

“You know those big plastic sheets?”

“Oh Mikey, you don’t…”

“I do,” he cringed. “I lay it down in the play pen and give them a big plate of food.”

“ _Mikey!_ ”

“It’s only when I’m too tired to feed them one by one! What do you want me to do?!”

“We’re finding some high chairs! Rivet! How could you let him do this!?”

“Don’t chastise the robot! He doesn’t have a conscience.”

“If Donnie built him and I’m yelling at him he does!”

-:-

“I am not having those things in the lair, April. They’re _mouldy_.”

April frowned. “When have you ever cared? You would eat off this.” April tapped the high chair on the side. They were at the dump, trying to find new furniture for the lair.

“I _would_ have eaten off that, April. But not now.” Mikey turned away from the collection of high chairs. “Things have changed. I can’t just eat anything that’s on the ground now. Or on the wall. Or whatever is in the back of the fridge or behind it… How am I not dead?”

“One should ask,” April mumbled. “We’d have to clean it obviously. Rivet could probably make a big steamer thing to kill all the mould and bacteria!”

April tried to be enthusiastic. But it was hitting her all at once how much Mikey had grown up. He was just that bit taller than her, had leaned right up with all his training and his voice even sounded deeper. She’d spent so much time marvelling at how his brothers were growing that she had completely missed Mikey blossom and mature.

“Donnie already made something like that,” Mikey said walking around the offending high chair. “I used it to cook fish sometimes.”

“Oh my God! I haven’t had your fish in ages!” April cried, flailing against his side. “You have to cook it for the boy’s birthday!”

Mikey quirked a brow at her and smirked. “Are you ok? You seem very… exaggerated tonight.”

She was, because she was trying to hide how sad she was. She missed the way Mikey used to look up at her with those big, round eyes. Now she looked up at him, wondering if his brothers would have had _those cheekbones_ if they were still the right age. She missed his freckles, which had faded into his skin, as had her own, ridding him of that boyish charm. She missed his short bandana ends that used to look like little goldfish, now he wore them long down his back like the tail feathers of some elegant bird. She missed so many things she didn’t realised she loved.

“Just feeling nostalgic,” she said moving away from him and heading towards another pile of junk. “Come on, we need to find good beds for kids!”

-:-

Mikey’s favourite appliance was the food processor. It used to be the milkshake maker (and _wow_ he hadn’t had a milkshake in over a year, he and Ice Cream Kitty would have to do something about _that_ ), but Mikey had found out the hard way that feeding babies steamed veggies as they were was a recipe for disaster. More food was thrown than eaten and rats decided the kitchen was the new heaven.

(And that was the first time he prayed since burying his father, to ask for forgiveness for the rat traps. _Sorry, but if one of those things bites one of the boys I’ll torch the place._ )

After what was dubbed “The Great Food War”, Rivet had printed off recipes upon recipes and slipped them into a folder unapologetically titled _“101 Ways to Make Mush Taste Good”_ and set himself about making the best food processor possible, which Mikey joked had a hundred and one functions of its own.

Tonight’s mush was broccoli, carrots, beans, and squash with brown rice mixed in. He’d made enough for him and the boys to eat because he never had time to make his own meal after feeding three kids. And he and Rivet both agreed he couldn’t live on instant ramen as an afterthought in the middle of the night.

But it made Casey smile how much Mikey had changed in the last year. He knew it upset April which Casey didn’t really get because Mikey was still _Mikey_. The guy still loved pranks, now instead of throwing water balloons about the lair he took Shadow to the roof tops and threw them at people walking by (which Casey begrudgingly overlooked because it was helping Shadow with her aim before she touched any weapons). Mikey cooked more than ever, and he finally started watching kid’s shows again instead of those crappy soap operas. Sure he changed physically but they all had, even Leatherhead looked younger with less tension on his shoulders.

“Raph, sit still!” Mikey groaned as he tried to wrestle the thrashing Raph into his high chair. Mikey had to sew some straps into Raph’s high chair because the kid was renowned for climbing out of anything (they could only find really old chairs that had none), and Mikey had said that with his luck he’d look away for one second and he’d find Raph on the floor with his head cracked open.

Casey smirked from his vantage point looking into the kitchen. Mikey had no idea he was there. Casey had picked up a thing or two watching Mikey _try_ to train Shadow in stealth.

“Ok,” Mikey sighed as he finally clipped Raph into his seat. “Want some rice, Raphie?”

Raph made some grumbling noises as he fidgeted in his chair, but opened his mouth when Mikey pressed the tip of the spoon to his lips. Raph considered the food as he sucked it off the spoon, but Casey could see what was about to happen. April would kill him if he said it out loud, but Casey definitely had a favourite between the boys and there’s no special prizes for guessing that was Raph. And it’d break Mikey’s heart if Casey said he was pretty sure the boys had some sort of memory of them, because Casey never had an issue with Raph, and Donnie always fell to sleep quickly in April’s arms. Casey figured it was like how babies could remember who their parents were, but the boys had that memory since before… just since before. Anyway, those two factors were the reason Casey knew Raph was about to spit his food out.

Mikey didn’t realise until it hit his face.

“ _Again_ , Raph?” Raph giggled and beat his chubby hands against the front of his highchair. Casey was about to step into the kitchen and offer to help Mikey out when it happened.

“Dada!”

“What?”

Casey froze.

“Dada!”

Casey leaned against the doorway, slowly sliding down to the floor. He watched with watery eyes as Mikey went unnaturally ridged.

_How didn’t we think of this?_

“No, Raph. _Mike._ I’m Mikey.” Casey could hear the nervous rattle in Mikey’s voice. He wanted to run in there and hug the guy but something was keeping him firmly on the ground.

His own sadness? Maybe. All three of the boys had made the odd ‘dada’ sound recently but it was usually followed by some other garbled mess that none of them put much thought into it.

“Dada!” The conviction in Raph’s voice hurt Casey and he couldn’t imagine how Mikey was feeling. Mikey slumped in his chair and stared at his own feet. There were no tears just a blank expression that scared Casey. The kid couldn’t shut down. Not now, not after they’ve been through so much.

“Dada!”

“I guess I kinda am, huh Raphie?” Mikey mumbled with a barely there smile.

Casey didn’t know what to do. He suddenly felt like he was seeing something he definitely shouldn’t be. Like he was intruding on an incredibly private moment. Quietly, he slipped away from the kitchen with a plan to re-enter the lair as if he had never heard a thing.


	5. 誕生日

"Mikey get up." 

"April, you need to decide what's more important here. My help or your AHH!"

Mikey just had enough time to grab onto his mattress to save himself from hitting the ground. He turned his head to see April with a firm grip on his leg and a frown that he wouldn’t mess with.

"Come on!" April whined as she kept tugging at his leg "We need to decorate the play pen!"

He was close to snapping. But what could he do? The poor girl was still grieving. She didn't have to face it every day like he did, she could distract herself with school and her part time job or just about anything else. 

He got it. Distractions were great because sometimes the silence in his lair was deafening. 

And Mikey loved his boys he really honestly did and he felt awful for thinking this way, but he didn't feel the way she did. He was stuck in the sewers with them every day, going through the same routine he never got a break from. No quiet time to himself. It was either he had to feed them or change them or wash them or the lair needed to be cleaned and then he had to train then go out and get food and plan what they were going to eat for the week and then actually have to cook it. He was never away long enough to miss them like April did and he was just tired and everything felt like a chore. He was a parent now regardless of how that tore him up inside. 

He wanted his dad in that moment. 

"Fine, let me have a shower."

He didn't need one. He had showered the night before, after training. But he wanted a cry without having to deal with April. He loved her and he knew he wouldn't have gotten this far without her but damn it all if she didn't drive him up the walls sometimes. Because she didn't want to be sad, she wanted to be happy so she would focus on being only that. And Casey was always the one to catch the tail end of that storm when she would crash. 

He waited for the water to warm up for two minutes. 

"You have got to be kidding." 

He turned the water off and on again and waited another two minutes. Still cold. Maybe he would just cry out of frustration. 

"Rivet!" Mikey yelled as he stormed out of the bathroom and towards the lab. "The boiler isn't working. I swear if you took a part out of it I'll rearrange your bolts!"

All he got in response was a few dull beeps as he entered the lab. Rivet was slumped against the wall just next to the lab door. Mikey knelt down and tilted the robots head towards his. The lights of Rivets eyes were dull. 

Today was going to be a disaster. 

"Oh no what's wrong?" Mikey tried to give the robot the once over but he had no idea what he was looking for. 

“ _Beep._ ”

"I need more than that buddy." He didn't look broken. Not even a scratch. "Do you need to recharge?" Mikey whipped his head round the lab, looking for a power cord. Rivet had always taken care of himself, his maintenance and even upgrades. 

Rivet shook his head and slowly got up, trudging his way across the lab leaving Mikey on the floor. He had never seen Rivet like this. Sure he had more personality than Mikey could have ever thought possible but lethargic and defeated was something he had never seen. 

"Wait, are you sad?" If Rivet could mock him and take care of him why couldn't he feel sad? "Wow, I didn't even think, Rivet I'm sorry."

Rivet didn't respond. He just started to dig through a pile of paper on the desk. 

_Geez, Mike. You gotta give the guy more credit._

Of course his brother was capable of creating something, or someone, so human. Mikey had always thought Rivet just did what he did because he was built partially to be a butler-bot. And he always thanked him because Splinter had taught him manners. But he wondered if that actually got through to Rivet. Rivet could give himself upgrades and probably had been doing so for a year now so he had to be so much more than just a robot with a set list of skills. Mikey wondered, what if Rivet didn’t have to be here anymore? What if he was doing everything just because he wanted to?

"Do you want to pray with me tonight? After everyone has gone."

Rivet turned around, his eyes brighter, a warm orange colour, and shook his head. He walked back to Mikey with a bit more confidence in his step and handed him a stack of papers. 

"Is this for the boiler?" Mikey asked taking the papers and quickly reading over them. "You know just because I can remember what I'm about to read doesn't mean I can understand it."

Rivet just beeped and went to grab the nearest toolbox as Mikey stood up. 

"You know it's weird." Mikey mumbled as he desperately tried to ignore the clanging noises in the kitchen. "I'm like a dad now. And your sort of like my brother. I haven't really thanked you for everything you've done. I probably would have starved myself if you weren't here.  And I like to think that's not something Don programmed because I don't like to think he would plan for something so hopeless. So thanks for being so good to me, and for me."

Rivet didn't respond.

-:-

It took them half an hour to fix the boiler and it took Mikey about ten seconds of being under the warm stream of water to break down. 

He could remember exactly where he was this time a year ago. He was in the kitchen, cooking cheesy potato pancakes because Splinter liked those as an every now and then breakfast. It was his way to say sorry for having his horror movie too loud the night before. It was an apology his father accepted gracefully and quietly. 

He stood in the shower for twenty minutes till the water ran cold, hoping the sound drowned his sobs.

His chested ached. He missed Splinter the most (something that always started a vicious guilt spiral). His friends all took care of him and loved him, and he knew how much his brothers loved him, but his dad was different because your parents take care of you in a way your friends and siblings never should. His missed the way he would casually go to his father and hug him, or those rare occasions Splinter sought him out for affection. He even missed being yelled at and disciplined because he was learning now in such a hard way that that was good for him, as a person, as a ninja, and now as a parent. Because it didn't matter if the boys called him dad or brother, Mikey would have to be for them what Splinter was to him. That was scary. 

Mikey didn't handle anxiety well. He had rarely dealt with it growing up, with his brothers carrying most of their burdens. And he was resentful of that. He knew they were protecting him and he let them do that but dammit he was a person too and they tried to rob him of his right to misery. Maybe if they had all worked through everything together in the past he would be handling now better. Or maybe the now would be different.

He could barely remember that night. He figured he had repressed the memories somehow or he was just too upset to take anything in. He’d gotten separated from his brothers once they got into the building. He hadn’t paid much attention and wasn’t sure why they were there. But he was quickly cornered and taken to some cell, a bare white room. He didn’t know how long he was there for. But the next thing he knew his brothers were put on the ground in front of him by a Kraang.

_“Your father is dead. I’m sorry.”_

Wait.

The guy had apologised. He must have been in serious shock not to realise it. Mikey closed his eyes and tried to dig deep into his memory, even as the cold water beat down his shell. The Kraang turned around and left.

_That can’t be it._

“Why did he apologise?” The Kraang didn’t care. He knew his father had been lured topside after Mikey and his brothers were captured, but he always figured that was a Foot thing, not a Kraang thing. “Maybe I’m just imagining it.”

He turned the water off and stepped out of the tub. He started to dry himself off on auto-pilot. The less he thought, the less he’d stress about just about everything that was nagging at him today.

-:-

“That was a long shower.”

“I live in the sewer. No shower is long enough.” Mikey laughed. April was pinning streamers to the play pen. Mikey had told her she couldn’t decorate the whole lair (a conversation that ended in a fight that resulted in two days’ worth of silent treatment on both ends). Casey bargained that the play pen was the canvas of her masterpiece.

“I made you breakfast,” she mumbled. She wasn’t looking him in the eye.

“Thanks.” _Suspicious._

The kitchen was spotless. But the air smelt of burnt bacon and a can of citrus air freshener, among other things. But all there was to show for it was a bowl of cereal, a milk carton, and a glass of orange juice on the island bench. Mikey eyed off the bin he knew was either full if whatever was in the air or empty in an attempt to hide the evidence.

Mikey gave her credit for trying. He poured milk into his bowl. Forgoing a spoon, he wandered back to April, alternating mouthfuls of his cereal and juice. “Is the decorating successful?”

“Super successful!” April stood up and backed away from her work. Mikey liked it. It wasn’t too much but still enough to get the boys excited. Mikey had said no balloons; no one wants to deal with any explosions, followed by crying babies and or a panic attack.

“So who’s coming exactly?” Mikey asked. “You never told me.”

“Ummm, Casey and Shadow are out getting a cake and some food, Leatherhead said Rockwell and Pete are coming for sure. I haven’t heard anything from Slash.”

“Slash hasn’t talked to me since Christmas. I don’t think he’ll show.”

“Well I made sure Leatherhead let him know he was invited. And I told Casey to get enough food just in case he does show up.”

There was a small, dark part of Mikey that hoped the guy wouldn’t show up.

-:-

Somehow, even though April had spent so long beforehand stressing to him that she’d handle everything, Mikey ended up cooking for everyone.

“Casey, you know how to use a knife, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Cut up the vegetables for me.”

And _somehow_ , that simple request turned into a fight between Shadow and Casey.

“Sensei! Casey took a sword from the dojo and is using it to cut carrots!”

“Your brother can do what he likes. Let him make himself into a one armed vigilante. See if I care!”

“That would be so cool. I’d get a hook!”

But it was fun, just hanging around and socialising. April was formally banned from the kitchen by Rockwell because he saw her crime scene from breakfast dumped just outside the turnstiles. Casey was on cutting duty, Pete hovered around the kitchen with Shadow following him, picking at food and raving on about different kinds of breads and how Rockwell was teaching him to read so he could make his own bread from recipes.

It was easy because no one let him stop to think. And not in the way Casey and April did sometimes about proper adult things. It was a joke, followed by a story, or a question from Rockwell about what he was making. Sure, everything about the morning had been put on a shelf in his mind but it wasn’t crushing him like he felt it usually was.

“You really must teach me some of your ways, Michelangelo.” Rockwell stood at the bench making tea for him and Leatherhead. “That way I can host sometimes. Pete says I cut bread wrong.”

“You don’t let Pete cut his own bread?”

“Oh heavens no. Would you trust that boy with a knife?”

Probably not when he thought about it. But Mikey had often woken up from midday naps to find Pete flying around the lair with one of the boys in a baby harness around his chest, and not once had any of those boys been dropped.

“Pete’s not too bad. Maybe you just need to use a better knife for the bread. I know how to sharpen blades; we have all the tools for it here.”

Domesticity. He hadn’t experienced it for a while and it was nice. At least with other people who had the capacity to appreciate it.

“I’ll bring them around Tuesday night, and you can teach me how to make a pizza dough.”

“Done.”

-:-

They dealt with presents while they waited for Mikey’s soup to reduce. Mikey hadn’t expected April to have gotten as much as she had.

“Did you buy a gift with very paycheque you got?”

“No. Some of this is second hand. I cleaned it all though!” April beamed as she stepped into the play pen with her bag of goodies. Mikey knew he didn’t have much for the boys, having to dig up keepsakes from his and his brother’s childhoods, and only bringing things from the dump when they were clean enough (which was rare). But April had so many gaudy coloured, plastic, light up things that made too much noise, he felt weirdly inadequate. But he smiled anyway as she explained to the boys how to use everything as if they understood or cared.

Rockwell, Pete and Leatherhead had gone a simpler route. They opted to make stuff toy versions of themselves made out of socks. Mikey thought they were the cutest things _ever_ and was tempted to keep them for himself until Raph all but fell in love with his sock Pete.

“There’s no buttons because I heard in the park once these mothers talking about how some kid had taken them off his bear and swallowed it!” Pete explained. “So we just used thread for the eyes and mouths. Shadow helped us get socks the right colour too!”

“Thanks guys.” Mikey smiled and stretched his legs out on the couch. “They’re awesome.”

“Rooish, look! Casey and I saw how much April was getting for the boys so we got you something instead!” Shadow beamed. She jumped on his lap and shoved a box into his face. It was bigger than his head and green with an orange ribbon wrapped around it.

“Wow, thanks guys.” He pulled at the ribbon, which Shadow quickly snatched from him with a sheepish look and began to thread it through her braid. “You’re welcome, Shadow.”

“Come on, hurry up!” She pushed the box in his hands. “We don’t have all day.”

“ _Shadow!_ ” Casey growled.

Mikey pulled the lid off the box and tugged at the fabric inside. Letting the box drop he slowly realised that his gift was a hand crocheted blanket. It was orange with a turtle in the centre and big enough to cover a double bed.

“Where did you guys get this?”

“Our nan made it. She’s been working on it for ages. Don’t worry though! We told her our friend was having a hard time and really liked turtles.”

“It gets cold down here. And you said you don’t keep those portable heaters on when you sleep because you think they’ll catch fire.” Casey smirked and sat down next to Mikey, nudging him with his elbow.

“They will! There was a thing about it on the TV and everything!” He nudged Casey back and fiddled with the blanket. “Thanks guys. This is really great.”

Shadow leaned up to wrap her arms around Mikey’s neck. “Anytime.”

-:-

“There’s something I need to tell you.” Rockwell was quiet as he and Mikey walked into the kitchen to check on the food.

“Oh geez, what?”

“Shredder and Karai.” Rockwell crossed his arms. “They’ve gone back to Japan. My sources say they won’t be coming back for quite some time.”

“Sources?”

“They weren’t exactly willing,” Rockwell said with a smirk. “Apparently they don’t have any business being here anymore. The Foot are just maintaining the base and a few business ventures.”

“Hmm. That explains why we haven’t heard anything from them.”

“That’s all I’ve been able to gather. The Foot have gone undercover, blending in with normal people.”

“I need to tell you something too.”

“Do tell.”

“The Kraang that came and dropped off the boys told me Splinter was dead. He apologised.” Rockwell searched Mikey’s face and he squirmed under the stare. “I only remembered it this morning, I’m not even sure if it actually happened.”

“I’m sure it did,” Rockwell said comfortingly. “Do you think the one Kraang with a conscience just happened to wander into your cell that night?”

“No because he didn’t talk like a Kraang.” Mikey made a point to start busying himself with the food. “He spoke like us.”

“Interesting. I’ll keep an eye and ear out for such a thing.”

“Thanks.”

They moved around the kitchen quietly after that, both trying to process the new information.

-:-

Praying was _hard_. Not for any technical reason, but Mikey couldn’t help but feel stupid. When he prayed he was usually in the middle of something, asking for help or cursing someone without really realising he was doing it. But as he lit the incense around his family shrine, on his and his mask respectfully off his face he just felt dumb. He had dishes to do and he had to start seriously thinking about cleaning his room and moving into the dojo bedroom, but instead he was taking an hour out of his time to meditate and talk to his family, who he wasn’t sure could hear him. Plus, he wasn’t sure he was even doing it right. He’d seen Splinter set himself to pray countless times and could remember everything to a t, but self-doubt still gnawed at him.

The family portrait of Yoshi, Tang Shen and Miwa had been moved to the bottom shelf of the wall hung shrine, in favour of the last photo Mikey had of his family. It wasn’t great. The camera was wonky and only half of Mikey’s face was in the haphazard selfie, with the rest of his family behind him, sitting at the table. Splinter was smiling with amusement, Leo was ready for the attack photo with a big grin, Donatello had a calm look on his face as he was midway through slurping the broth from his ramen, and Raph was rocking the deer in headlights expression. It was his favourite photo that had migrated from his bedside table to the shrine at some point, maybe when he was cleaning.

Mikey closed his eyes. Hoping maybe his father would sense him and come. Mikey tried to find him, but it was hard when he didn’t know where to look. But nothing happened. He didn’t feel anything. He tried to dig deep and he focused as hard as he could but he got nowhere.

Maybe he wasn’t strong enough or good enough to connect with the ‘other side’. Or maybe there wasn’t one. Defeated, he sat staring at the wall until the incense burnt out. He got up, checked that the boys were still sleeping soundly, and went to bed, curled up in his new blanket.

_Maybe tomorrow will be better._


	6. 心の琴線

Mikey sprinted out of the dojo, ignoring the alarmed look from Pete. “ _WHERE IS MY PHONE!?”_

“In the kitchen,” Pete mumbled, lightly batting Donnie’s hand from his beak. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’m a kunai short!” Mikey disappeared into the kitchen and shot straight back out with his phone pressed hard to his face. “ _Pickuppickuppickup I swear on my shell!_ ”

“Are you sure it isn’t in the dojo?”

“Yes, I counted them before Shadow came for training last night and I just recounted them and one’s gone and Casey is gonna breAK MY NECK IF SHE HURTS HERSEL- _SHADOW!_ ”

“Dude, she’s in class she isn’t going to answer.”

“She’s gonna get expelled for taking a weapon to school. Casey’s never going to talk to me again.”

Pete put Donnie down in the play pen. “I can go get her for you.”

“Dude you can’t break into the school and take a kid!” Mikey growled and started to furiously type out a text. “I’m a dead man, Pete. I’m going to die from stress.”

“Rockwell’s right, you are dramatic.”

Mikey gave Pete a side eye. When he received only a shrug in return he rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen. He needed comfort food.

-:-

“I can explain!” Shadow smiled, waving her t-phone slightly next to her head. For a seven nearly eight-year-old she had more confidence and not enough shame for the situation. “My friend needed it!”

Mikey blinked at her. He hadn’t let her come through the turnstiles before he rushed at her. And she was completely unfazed by him towering over her with steam practically coming out his ears. “ _What?_ ”

“I told her she could use a baseball bat and I took one of Casey’s to give to her but the teacher took it off me because it wasn’t show and tell day, so-“

“Wait, wait, wait. Use the baseball bat for what, Shadow?” He knelt to look her in the eye. She stared back at him, not a lick of nervousness in her body. “Shadow, what’s going on?”

“My friend’s name is Angel. Her mum hits her. The teachers don’t notice and she made me promise not to say anything ‘cos she might have to move far away like some other kids in her building.”

“Do you have the knife now?”

“Yeah. She wouldn’t take it.”

Mikey nodded. “Ok come with me to the dojo. I need to show you something.” He took her hand and walked her through the lair. In the dojo he sat down in front of one of the weapon racks. “Sit down. And give me the kunai.”

Shadow obeyed, slipping her backpack off her shoulders and taking a shoe box out. “I put it in one of those leather pouches and then in a shoe and stuffed it with socks so no one would see.” Unstuffing everything, Shadow handed over the leather pouch.

“Ok. Do you know how sharp this is?” Shadow shook her head. Mikey slipped the kunai out of the pouch and handed it to Shadow. She gripped the handle tightly and Mikey held his hand out flat. “Drag it across my palm.”

“What?” Shadow flinched a bit.

“Not too hard, just lightly.”

“No!” Shadow dropped the kunai on the floor. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because this is serious, Shadow!” He picked up the knife and waved it a bit. “This could kill someone. What if you had hurt yourself? If Angel had hurt herself? How would you explain this to someone?”

“Say I found it on the street.” Shadow’s voice was quiet. “You guys throw those around all the time.”

“But we always picked them up when we can, and so do the Foot.” Mikey put the knife down and took Shadow’s hands. “When you put this in Angel’s hand you’re putting her in danger because she’s untrained. This isn’t some cartoon, she isn’t just going to suddenly know how to use it, let alone have the courage to stab her mother. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Shadow mumbled, squeezing Mikey’s hands. “But what am I supposed to do?”

“Shadow, you have to tell someone. A teacher, the police, your dad. She’s more likely to hurt herself with this than protect herself properly.”

“But she says she’ll get taken away!” Shadow wailed and stood up. “Her mum is her only family here, and I promised!”

“Well you can’t go giving her weapons! And I can’t be going around giving parenting lessons so you’ll need to tell someone!” Mikey tried to keep his cool, not letting it show just how frustrated he felt. “Even if you just tell April and Casey so she’ll have somewhere to go.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please, Shadow. You need to talk to someone about this, an adult that can do something. Because I’m stuck down here.” Mikey squeezed her hand. “I’m gonna call Casey so he can take you home.”

“You won’t tell him about the kunai will you?”

“Not if you promise to tell him about Angel.”

“Deal.”

“Good. Now I won’t tell your brother but you need to go convince Pete. He’ll probably need more convincing than me.”

-:-

Casey came and left with Shadow in a rush, yelling about their dad getting a shift off of work and they were going out to dinner.

“Parenting is hard, Pete.” Mikey collapsed on the couch. “It’s worse when its someone else’s kid.”

“I thought you did pretty well.” Pete tore a warm loaf of bread into chunks and handed one to each of the boys. “Want some?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Mikey took the bread and smelled it. It smelt like garlic and herbs. “Wait why have you been here all day? Not that I mind but, have you been making bread?”

“Yeah. Kurtzman said I had to take a break from smelling the warehouse out with bread. And I was making too much. Rockwell found a place in the sewers no too far from here he wants to set up for us.”

“You guys are moving out of Kurtzman’s?” Mikey asked through a mouthful of bread.

“Rockwell says there’s too much activity top side, he can’t get any sleep. And down here is closer to you guys and Leatherhead.”

“You guys are gonna need help,” Mikey blinked slowly. Pete had his back to Mikey, handing small pieces of bread to each of the boys.

“It’s not going to happen for a while. Rockwell has to find everything first. Like beds and kitchen stuff.”

“Tell April and Casey. Ape will take Rivet to the dump and Casey will steal stuff for you. I had to replace the oven last week, I can help with that.”

“What happened to the old one?”

“It was just time for a new one.” Mikey reached over Pete’s shoulder and plucked the last of the bread out of his hands. “Out with the old and in with the new, you know?”

-:-

Mikey blinked.

Slash.

In the lair.

Slash was in the lair.

Uninvited.

“I’m not feeding you.”

“What?”

“Every time someone walks through those turnstiles I end up feeding them. I did my budget last week and no more!”

“What are you on about?”

He wasn’t even really sure because part of him was happy Slash was there but another part of him was a bitter child. Slash at least had the decency to look uncomfortable under Mikey’s blank stare (which was only blank because he was obviously trying to choose what emotion he wanted to run with).

“Do you need something? Because I remember telling you to call me to meet up. Leatherhead and I are about to have dinner.”

“Did you know Rockwell and April meet up once a week to do weird mind power shit?”

“No.”

“Well they do,” Slash grunted and moved further into the lair. “And we just picked up a couple of squirrel mutants and they want to run something by you.”

“The squirrels?”

“No you id- _No,_ April and Rockwell.”

“So they sent you?”

“Pete has the flu.”

“Well I’m glad you came down here out of the kindness of your heart.” Mikey sighed and headed to the kitchen. “Let me get some soup for Pete and we’ll go.”

-:-

Leaving the boys with just Leatherhead and Rivet was a first for Mikey. He knew it was nothing they couldn’t handle.

The thing Mikey couldn’t handle was the uncomfortable silence he and Slash were rocking.

“I am glad to see you; you know?” Mikey piped up. They were walking through the sewers single file, Mikey trailing Slash ever so slightly.

“Can I ask you a question?” Slash stopped walking abruptly and turned to face Mikey.

“Uhh, sure go ahead.”

"How did you sneak your mutation day past everyone?" Slash asked. 

_What?_

"April forgot and everyone else didn't know." Mikey mumbled. "What was your excuse?"

"Didn't think you'd want to see me."

Mikey hummed. "I'm glad you didn't come. I'm glad no one came. I stayed in my bed all day and cried."

Mikey watched Slash. Slash was pointedly avoiding making eye contact. "The robot didn't get you up? LH said the thing waits on your hand and foot."

"He tried. But I begged him to leave me alone. I said I was waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

This was cruel. Cruel to himself and to Slash. "Waiting for Raph to beat down my door demanding breakfast. Or for Leo to wake me up. Or for Donnie to just appear at my bedside table mumbling about coffee and messing around with my alarm clock. Or for Splinter to check on me."

"Denial."

Mikey scoffed. "Don't do that five steps junk. April tried telling me about it and you can imagine how that went."

"So what did you do all day? You'd get bored, I don't believe you'd stay in bed all day."

"I cried. Screamed until I passed out. Had nightmares and wet the bed. Sobbed so hard at one point that I threw up." He stared Slash in the eye, no emotion in his words or on his face.

"Stop. Why are you telling me this?"

That day was a blur to him. Nothing about it in hindsight seemed real. His alarm went off as it always had and realisation dawn on him and set in his chest like concrete, keeping him in his bed, lying in wait. He stared at his wall for an hour shaking in nervousness, scared of reality. When he heard the babies starting to stir he wailed, soaking and screaming into his pillow. He spent his seventeenth mutation day alone.

Without warning, he started to sob.

"Because you don't see anything. I'm so mad at you but for some reason I still need you to know that I'm suffering and I miss them. I spent the day laying in my own pee and vomit because I couldn't bear to face my empty lair, I didn't want to acknowledge my mutation day. It was the day my family became my family and they weren't there." Mikey rubbed at the tears rolling down his face and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I should have been there for you." Slash reached out and awkwardly rested his hand on Mikey’s shoulder.

"What would you have done? What could you have done?"

"The bed obviously needed to be cleaned."

"Yeah, I felt pretty awful. River didn't put up with me the next day, dragged my shell straight to the shower, tossed the mattress and found me a new one."

"Does anyone else know about it?"

"No. And I don't want them to. It's something that happened just for me and my grieving. April thinks trying to be happy all the time is how to get over things and if that's working for her then I'm glad. But I need to cry. I can't ignore how awful I feel. I love my kids and they make me so happy but I'm still in agony."

"Your kids?"

"Really, that's what you take away from that?" Mikey arched a brow. “You and Raph really were as dense as each other.”

"Right, sorry." Slash ducked his head and turned to walk away. “We should get going. O’Neil will have a fit if we take too long.”

-:-

“What took you so long?” April frowned when Slash and Mikey entered Kurtzman’s warehouse.

“Told you.”

“Shut up, Slash.” Mikey smiled and nudged Slash with his elbow before addressing April. “So, I hear there are some squirrels who want to run something by me.”

“Yeah, they’re upstairs.”

As the three of them slowly made their way up the stairs the sounds of nails scratching against concrete started to flood Mikey’s ears. Cringing just slightly at the sound Mikey turned to Slash.

“What have you got up here?

“I told you, squirrel mutants.”

Squirrel mutants indeed. Chained to the floor, calm and curiously clawing at the floor were two giant red alien looking things.

“No.”

“Mikey, hear us out.”

“April, what could you have to listen to? Unless they have some special mutation that gave them vacuum powers I can’t take them in!” Mikey flailed wildly at the creatures, catching their attention slightly. “I have three kids who love poking things they shouldn’t. Those guys are gonna bite off the boy’s fingers, or worse!”

“We aren’t suggesting you house them,” Rockwell calmly interjected. “We just wanted to suggest letting them roam some of the deeper levels of the sewers. April and I have managed to tame these creatures using our combined mental strengths. We need a place to house them.”

“And we thought they could be really good for security!” April beamed and paced over to one mutant, grabbing its paw and waving it. “Look at these claws! They could deal with any intruders looking for trouble in the sewers!”

Admittedly, Mikey found April’s enthusiasm a tad infectious. But he kept his back straight, trying not let it show he was somewhat taken by the new mutants.

“Not to be rude, but are you sure these… _squirrelanoids_ won’t turn?” Mikey looked over his shoulder at Slash and back at Rockwell. “Whatever it is you and April have done, which by the way we are having a long talk about, won’t ware off?”

“Not at all.” Rockwell smiled in that way that always calmed Mikey no matter who it was on. It was a comforting but serious expression that dispelled most worries. “We have kept them here for a while and are confident they won’t turn feral. Pete has agreed to keep them fed. They really shouldn’t bother you, we just wanted to let you know. We don’t have a retro-mutagen and they have nowhere else to go.”

Mikey could feel his heart strings being tugged. It would be a pretty miserable existence being chained up in some warehouse. He sighed. “Yeah ok.”

He shook his head at April’s cheer of success and the quiet chatter coming from the squirrelanoids. They seemed like nice enough creatures, so long as they stayed out of the lair.

“I have to get back. It won’t be long before there’s a disaster back at my place.” Mikey tossed his container of soup to Slash as he walked to leave. “Make sure Pete gets this. I’d give it to him, but I can’t risk getting sick.”

“No worries, kid” Slash said, waving Mikey goodbye.

_It’ll be ok_ Mikey thought, exiting the building and relishing in the city breeze hitting his skin. _Things are looking up._


	7. ホットソース

Mikey meets the boy from the pizza shop by an accident concocted by fate. First off, he had to change pizza shops because of some kind of pizza mutant.

“That’s all you got for me?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“You _suck_ at telling stories, Slash.”

And worst still Pete wasn’t there so all Mikey had was Slash’s “Pizza mutant trashed your old store. Gonna have to find a new one. Sorry about it.”

Second, the Chinese place had been robbed one too many times. The owner packed their bags and moved of greener pastures and no one would re-lease the shop because of the crime rate.

_Thirdly_ , cooking was hard, tiring and expensive when living in the sewers seemed to turn the food rotten twice as fast. And Mikey refused to live off canned goods, not on his shell.

So he needed to find a new go to take out place for his one night a week ‘screw this and everything else, I’m not cooking’ tantrum.

And it took him a month. No one in his area seemed to be willing to dump a pizza on a dumpster and take the money left for them, but he eventually convinced what sounded like a young guy over the phone that he just had really bad teeth that smelt and he couldn’t afford to fix it.

“Ok, I’m off to get pizza!”

“You finally found a place?” Slash smirked, watching the boys in their play pen from a fair distance, still too scared to touch or be scared of.

“Yeah, made a sob story. Guy on the phone was a sap.”

It was all fine for a month or so. He’d make his order and pick it up with no problems. And the pizza was alright, not as good as the place he used to go to. But Mikey found himself nit-picking for the sake of nit-picking like an old man and he wasn’t going to admit it so he pressed on. But some gang had other ideas.

With the Mutanimals focusing on the Kraang and the Foot out of the picture, gang crime started getting out of hand around the city. And Mikey was admittedly pretty apathetic about it. Occasionally Casey would drag him by the shell topside for a work out, but Mikey had no idea what the go was with turf and what affiliation new tattoos represented anymore.

“Let them beat the crud out of each other.”

“If only, but they’re going after people for protection money. That makes them our problem.”

But back to the point, some new young group decided to mess with Mikey’s new pizza store. It was a quiet night, just the owner and his son were in the shop when the punks decided to storm in. He watched from the rooftop across the road and weighed up the pros and cons between waiting for the cops or just barging in himself.

Against his better judgement, he went with the latter before he could stop himself. Quickly the three guys were sprawled on the shop floor, whimpering with sore jaws.

“You know, I really don’t like guys like you messing with my access to pizza,” Mikey huffed. “But I’m going easy on you this time, so let your buddies know this place is off limits, ok?”

They were gone as quickly as they had hit the floor, hollering obscene threats. Mikey rolled his shoulders back.

“Holy crap!” Mikey turned to finally face the owner of the voice, and back stared a bright eyed college student with his jaw on the floor.

“What do you want?” The father begged. “Money? Take the till!”

“No, no money!” Mikey tilted his head with a lopsided grin. “Just a pizza, that I’ll pay for!”

“You’re the teeth guy!” The son pointed wildly. “I recognise your voice!”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Mikey rubbed the back of his head bashfully. “Seriously though, I’ve got mouths to feed. How’s my order looking?”

“I was just about to leave with it when those guys came in!” The son grabbed a box from the back counter, and whirled his way around the front to hand it to Mikey. “It’s on the house tonight, as a thank you!”

“You really don’t have to.” Mikey pulled some money from his belt. “Seriously, with the trouble I put you through with leaving the pizza please take the money.”

They were good people, Mikey thought. The father looked as untrusting as Mikey would expect but harmless, and the son was… charming, put it that way.

“No, the boy is right.” Mikey jumped at the father’s loud voice. The man rounded the corner of the counter and stuck his hand out for Mikey to shake. “We would have lost a lot more money than this pizza is worth if you hadn’t shown up. My name is Hector. And this is my son, Woodrow.”

“Ahh, ok thanks.” Mikey tucked his money back in his belt, shook the man’s hand and nodded at Woodrow. “Hey, you guys seem alright, all things considered. And I really can’t afford to lose another take out store. I’ll have someone come around tomorrow and hook you up with a way to contact some who can help if those kinds of guys give you any trouble.”

“I appreciate that. I can certainly say you’re more effective than any cop was.” Hector crossed his arms and looked Mikey up and down. “Are your… friends gonna look like you?”

“Dad, you’re being rude,” Woodrow grumbled.

“No, unfortunately I’m the cutest of my friends by a long mile. And hey, do us a favour and don’t tell the FBI or whatever about this.” Mikey gestured to his face. “We wouldn’t get along.”

Woodrow barked out a laugh, earning two very different looks from his father and Mikey. “Sorry, that was funny.”

“Sure, dude.” Mikey grinned crookedly. “Look, I gotta go. But I’ll send someone to do a run by tonight to make sure everything’s ok.”

“Yeah, great! Thank you again!” Mikey heard Woody call out as he bounded up the side of the building.

-:-

“Not the best pizza I’ve ever had,” Slash grumbled.

“Either eat and go or help me, dude!” Mikey growled, wrangling a screaming Donnie into his high chair. “Give Leo and Raph their food before they go off.”

Slash shuffled awkwardly into the kitchen. He picked up a slice and wiggled it in front of Raph, who was strapped into his chair, jutting his lip out. “Here.”

“You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“You gotta cu-ow!” Donnie swung his hand and struck Mikey in the face. “You gotta cut it up for him! The slice is as big as he is.”

Mikey was so close. So close to losing his shell. He could see Slash was tryi- “Not with a fighting knife! Where has that even been? Take one of the knives from the drawer.”

Trying. Slash was trying. By now both of them normally would have gotten Rivet to do it instead. But they were pressing on. It wasn’t uncommon now for Mikey to come home from a roof run or to wake up to a clean lair, dishes done and kitchen restocked with food. Admittedly Slash did his best work when no one was there to watch, or else he got embarrassed.

“Stop it!” Mikey yelled, only making Donnie’s screaming and kicking worse. “Kid, I was having a good night. Why do you have to ruin it?”

“That’s a little dark don’t you think?” Slash mumbled, blowing on the cut-up slices of pizza before handing a plate each to Leo and Raph. “Never thought you’d get a temper.”

“Never thought I’d have kids either!” Mikey snapped, finally gotten Donnie strapped into his seat. Slash was ready with a third plate of pizza. “Sorry, it’s the end of the day. I had to deal with some gang losers messing with the pizza shop. You’ll have to swing by on your way home to make sure they’re ok.”

“Sure, easy enough.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Raphie?” Mikey turned. Raphie was looking at him expectantly, unfazed by his brothers still raging tantrum.

“Wada!”

“What?” Slash grunted.

“He wants water, can you grab it? His bottle should be in the dish washer.” Mikey picked up a piece of pizza and offered it to Donnie, who had taken to beating his hands against the tray for his chair. “Hey kiddo, sorry for yelling. Truce?”

The pizza ended up against the wall with a defiant slap.

“Whatever,” Mikey dropped the plate in front of Donnie. He sat himself on a stool at the island bench and started on his own slice of pizza. “Figure it out yourself.”

“Does it matter which bottle?” Slash asked, holding three different water bottles in his hands.

“Absolutely. Raphie’s is the princess one. He won’t drink out of anything else.”

“This thing?” Slash put down the other two and inspected the garishly bright bottle. “You let him-“

“Oh, you really don’t want to start that argument.” Mikey, having had his masked tugged off in the high chair struggle, shot Slash a look that could kill. The circles under his eyes had gotten darker as of late. “Make sure you get the right lid, or he won’t drink it. And if one more kid cries I’m going to bed and it’s your problem.”

“Right.” Slash fumbled a bit filling the bottle up and trying to screw the cap on. He handed the bottle to Raphie, who took it happy with cheese and sauce covered hands. “So, no fancy toppings for the pizza tonight?”

“They won’t eat it if it has anything other than cheese and tomato sauce.” Mikey mumbled and started on his second slice. He smiled tiredly at Slash. “Weird considering, they can’t get enough of steamed vegetables. But something about it being cut up on a pizza makes it weird for them.”

“Must be driving you mad.”

“What doesn’t? Normally I just cover mine in hot sauce and any leftovers but I’ve got none.”

They sat in comfortable quiet after that. The boys were happy enough. Donnie had calmed down and was picking at his pizza, still whining every now and then. But Mikey ignored it, and something about the distant look in Mikey’s eyes as he stared at the wall didn’t sit right with Slash. The kid was meant to be getting better. Slash had seen it, seen him in action. He was laughing like he used to. Fighting like nothing had happened, as if it had always been April, Casey and Leatherhead at his side and never his brothers. But this… Mikey wasn’t reacting to noise, Slash could see he was trying to block it out. Since when could Mikey do that?

“Stop panicking.”

“What?”

Mikey had moved those tired eyes from the wall to Slash. His expression was stern, but earnest. “I’m ok. It’s just a bad day. Me staring at the wall is the closest I can manage to meditation. Stop panicking.”

“Fine.” Slash fidgeted for a few moments, feeling incredibly uncomfortable at being read so easily. “I should get going. Check up on the pizza store.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Mikey smiled a little and Slash felt sick in his gut.

“I’ll see you later.”

“See ya!” Mikey yelled after Slash, who had bolted.

-:-

“Mike?”

“Yeah, Case?”

“Why the _hell_ do you have twenty bottles of hot sauce?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is the last Regression chapter I have. I'm getting place with the latest one so bear with me <3


	8. 天使

There were many admittedly strange things Mikey found normal.

A giant pigeon flying around his home with a toddler strapped to his chest? Sure.

An eight-year-old running around every corner with a hockey mask and wooden sword thinking no one could see her? Amusing.

A renowned scientist just as engrossed in a princess anime as the child in his lap? Brilliant.

However, folded sheets, freshly cleaned in his linen cupboard? Weird.

Dishes that had been cleaned by hand and left in the rack to dry? Unheard of.

A little kid curled up on his couch in the middle of the night? _Sigh._

“Hey, kiddo,” Mikey shook their shoulder gently. A mound of curly black hair stuck out from the top of the blanket they were cocooned in. “Wake up, you can’t stay on the couch.”

“Nnnmmmm,” a small voice grumbled, and a pair of brown eyes opened up and peeked through their trundles of hair.

“Do you know where you are?” Mikey smiled, crouching down and doing his best to make himself small.

“Not really. Shadow gave me map of how to get here.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“So, you’re Angel?” The kid nodded. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you from Shadow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, kiddo. She’s real worried about you.” Mikey tilted his head. It was midday, and he had arranged with Rockwell and Pete to have the boys for a couple of days. Slash had convinced him to at least tell Rockwell about his last mutation day. Granted it took him a couple of months of pestering but Slash had little else to do with his time. And Rockwell and Pete had finally set up their place in the sewers, so they had the boys for a couple of days to give Mikey some peace.

But the universe loved laughing at Mikey and his pain so instead of rearranging his kitchen and just about everything else in his home at least twice he was looking after yet another child. A very complicated child.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked. Angel nodded and untangled herself from the blankets. She followed Mikey to the kitchen and he could feel a headache coming on. Angel was too calm given she was being lead around by a giant turtle. Either Shadow had told this girl too much, or she had an undying amount of trust in Shadow. Both were problems because _Shadow_.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, watching the girl out of the corner of his eye and pulling bowls out of the cupboard. He was going to make omelettes. “Shadow told me a little bit about you when she tried to give you that knife.”

He moved to the fridge and pulled out the eggs. “I can crack those,” Angel said. He let her ignore the knife thing. It wasn’t her fault anyway.

“Did you clean the lair while I was asleep?” he asked gently. Mikey surveyed the girl. She was smaller than Shadow, granted Shadow had been over doing it with the ninjutsu training and had bulked up a bit. But Angel was thin and short in a way that didn’t sit right.

“Yeah.” Mikey waited for her to elaborate but she wouldn’t look at him. He’d figured Slash had been around, but he wouldn’t have woken up because the guy can’t help but stomp.

He knew he wouldn’t get far. The kid was only here based on the opinion of Shadow, who wasn’t even here because-

“Don’t you have school today?”

“I’m sick” Angel said plainly. She still wouldn’t look up from whisking the eggs.

“Fair enough.”

-:-

Angel didn’t talk much before Shadow finally showed up with a very agitated Casey in tow. But if anyone had mastered the art of ignoring Casey it was Shadow.

“Hi Angel!” She vaulted over the turnstiles. Angel and Mikey both looked up from the TV. They were watching the VHS tapes of Raph’s favourite magical girl anime. It was a good way to waste the day and the show wasn’t bad. “You didn’t come to school today.”

“She’s sick,” Mikey said not unkindly, looking at Casey and tilting his head towards the dojo.

“I swear to god Mike, I didn’t know she’d done this till she was dragging me down here.” Casey grunted and slammed the dojo doors shut behind them.

“Do you know what happened?” Mikey asked, sitting down at the base of the tree. “Because she hasn’t told me anything.”

“I think her mum has gone away somewhere. She does this sometimes.”

“Well she came down here on her own.”

“Yeah, she got spooked.”

“She can’t stay here, Casey.” Mikey frowned as Casey dropped next to him. His tone was pained. “She needs to go to school. She can’t stay in the sewers.”

“To be fair this isn’t really the sewers, it’s the old train line.”

“You’re considering this?!”

“A little.”

“When were you gonna tell me?”

“Eh,” Casey shrugged and grinned. “Nothing permanent. It’s just that her mum knows where we live so if she does go looking for Angel its safer here.”

“You know I can’t say no” Mikey groaned.

“Yeah, I’m being a jerk here. But Shadow isn’t. She just wants her friend to be safe.” Casey smiled but it was tight. “She’s better off here than in the system.”

Mikey flinched a little. “You sure about that?”

“You wouldn’t even have to do anything!” Casey laughed and stretched his arms above his head. “Angel is always taking apart remote-control toys. Just push her in front of Rivet and you’re good.”

Rivet hadn’t been in the lair all day. Where he was Mikey didn’t know but the shower stopped working the day before so he could be rerouting the whole cities water system for all he knew.

“I guess someone should make use of all of Donnie’s old junk.”

“But hey seriously,” Casey brought a heavy hand down on Mikey’s shoulder, both of them tensing up. “When Angel’s situation gets bad, it’s really bad. That’s what Shadow tells me. Those two are really good at hiding it.”

“I’ll give her a T-phone. But I’m serious, Case. She’s human, she doesn’t belong down here.”

“Yeah I know.” They got up and left the dojo to find the lab had been invaded.

It wasn’t until two after hours of clean up, and a long lecture on why you don’t stick screwdrivers into any robotics _Shadow_ , that Mikey finally had the place to himself again.

-:-

“Pizza boy keeps askin about you.” Slash said gruffly.

“Why? I see him every Friday,” Mikey mumbled and stared over the rooftops. He missed going on patrol. And Slash had decided that he was in charge of Mikey’s exercise plan (even though Mikey trained in the dojo every day and spent who knows how long chasing turtle tots). He didn’t need the extra workout but he humoured Slash more than anything.

“Try texting him on the T-phone. He’s annoying me.”

“He’s just the pizza guy, Slash. I’m not looking for a friend.”

He regretted saying it because it wasn’t entirely true and Slash got _that look_. He looked like a kicked puppy because Mikey did or said something he wouldn’t have a year and a half ago. Slash was the only one who really did it because he knew Mikey the best.

Slash held the expression long enough for Mikey to let out a very long groan.

“Fine! I’ll socialise with the pizza guy!” Mikey threw his arms in the air for the drama of it and- “oh geez, Rockwell’s right. I _am_ dramatic.”

“And as with anything, you’re the last to know.” Slash wore that shit eating grin of his. Mikey charged him but was easily pushed back on his shell.

-:-

Mikey must have been too slow to get in contact with Woody by Slash’s standards because two days after patrol Mikey learned that Slash had told Leatherhead, who told Pete, who told Rockwell, who told April, who told Woody, “Hey, did you know you can text on these T-Phones?”

They were all conspiring against him.

_Hey, its Woody. How are you?_

Mikey looked up from his phone at the wall. Once upon a time he would’ve rambled about everything that had passed through his mind in the last twenty minutes and they would have been there for an hour but now? He was stumped. His mind still went a mile a minute but it had a tendency now to just stop. And it just decided to stop. Dammit.

And Mikey didn’t really want to open up about the boys. Woody thought the ‘mouths’ he had to feed were the Mutanimals and not three toddlers.

_I’m alright. Ready for pizza tonight. :)_

Mikey can sense someone, somewhere laughing at him. Dammit.

-:-

Angel liked to show up after school, nod at Mikey and then disappear into the lab for an hour or two before saying she was going home.

“Yeah, you’re not going alone.” Mikey was stern the first time and now it was just an unspoken thing. She didn’t question Mikey’s rules, which were really simple.

  1. If it’s dark and you need to get to the lair, send a group text. Someone will get you.
  2. If you need to leave the lair after dark, someone will have to take you. No going on your own.
  3. You can’t be in the lab on your own.



Mikey sensed a theme as he spoke.

“Casey, I’m a _dad_. No, worse! I’m a boring dad!” Mikey flailed on the couch, elbowing Casey on is way down. “So many ru- Hey, Leonardo, do not eat that!”

Casey, for what is was worth, looked up from his phone as Mikey shot up from the couch, receiving yet another elbow. “Yeah, Leo. Don’t do that.”

“You were supposed to be watching them while I was with Angel!” Mikey frowned, pulling a set of keys from Leo’s death grip. “Where did you even get these?”

“He’s fine, no one is crying. Come on, Mike. Relax.”

“I’m responsible for four kids, two squirrels and an alligator. If you got off your butt and helped, maybe I could _relax._ ”

“Alright, alright, geez.”

He was stressed. Raphael and Donatello’s rooms were due to be cleared out properly the next day and Mike was going to start migrating into Splinters old room. The boys were getting too big to be sharing a room anymore. Rivet asserted it was time for big boy beds. Raphael’s old room was mostly cleaned out, but untouched for at least a year and need child proofing.

The last person in Donatello’s room was Donatello and just that idea alone made Mikey want to hurl.

Two years. It was quickly coming up on two years and Mikey didn’t know what to do with himself. He was going bad again. He went up and down waves throughout the day sure, but he was in a good period for the moment. The time he spent staring at a wall for no reason had dwindled, he tolerated tantrums without having one himself. Heck he even picked up skate boarding again.

But he was sure this wouldn’t last. It never did and that was ok because he wasn’t ok but everyone knew that. He had a problem and knew when to ask for help.

That and Rockwell never let him not talk about something.

He sensed an overload was on its way and he didn’t know how to stop it.

-:-

“Hold on, you want to _what?!_ ”

Rivet’s insistent push of the blue prints in front of them reiterated the point. He wanted to remodel the lair almost entirely. New kitchen. New Bathroom. New lab that better served as an infirmary and bedroom for any extended stays Angel might have. Hell, he even wanted to get his robot hands on the dojo.

Mikey really didn’t need this half way through fixing up Raph’s room.

“Can this wait until tomorrow? I need you to go through Don’s things.”

He figured that though he might regret it down the track, the less he touched of Don’s room the better. He went nearly two years without laying eyes on any of it, he’ll be fine for the rest of his life. The distinct memory and rush of scents he had to suffer with Leo’s room was haunting him, adding to any and all agitation.

Rivet seemed oblivious and beeped.

“Ok, fine!” Mikey threw his arms in the air. He’d only gone to the kitchen for some lunch. “But one room at a time. Start with the bathroom. It’s always giving us problems.”

Rivet swivelled his head in delight and left the kitchen.

“You better be off to get Angel from school and not pick tile samples!” Mikey yelled, too tired to get off the kitchen stool.

-:-

Unsurprisingly, Mikey got about three quarters of the way through what he wanted to do in Raph’s room before Rivet somehow powered through Don’s room with little Angel at his heels. Mikey got shooed off with very stern beeps that meant _parenting time go socialise with your kids._

Yeah, he forgot to do that sometimes.

Sure, he was running himself ragged constantly for them, but he often forgot to just sit with his boys. Talk to them. Make sure they’d recognise him.

But today he was dreading it.

Sometimes he’d have these moods. They were few and far but sometimes their loud squeals, sticky hands and newfound tendency to play rough made Mike want to yell. He didn’t always liked how they would cling to him. And at this time of year, two months away from the _anniversary of it all_ (No! their birthday, positive thoughts, positive thoughts) he felt it worse. Everything was starting to feel worse. Getting out of bed was harder, he’d cut his training hours down. Slash was beginning to hover and stay nights at the lair which was a sign he was getting really bad.

“When was the last time you ate?” Leatherhead asked.

Mike jolted a bit, not quite sure when he had laid down on the floor in front of the tv with Raph sleeping on top of his shell and Leo rhythmically rubbing the top of his head. It was nice.

“Why?” he asked through a yawn, focusing on the security of Raph’s weight and Leo’s gentle touch.

“You’re not looking well,” Leatherhead said gently, trying but failing to stop Donnie climbing up his arm. “I think we should head to Rockwell’s for dinner tomorrow. He has been boasting about a dinner he made last week.”

“Sounds nice,” Mikey mumbled, feeling his eyes getting heavy. “I’m sure Pete will have the perfect bread to go with the meal.”

“I have no doubt.”

“I’m gonna sleep now, LH.” Mikey’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Rest well, Michelangelo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dragging the second year out a bit but it'll be over next chapter...
> 
> Probably.


	9. 壁

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst. Teenagers are dumb.

“They were _roommates_ , Mike. It was so crazy.”

“Sounds it.”

“I mean probably not as crazy as having Slash as a roommate but still.”

Mike choked out a laugh and shivered a little in the cool breeze. Maybe eating dinner on a rooftop was a bad idea. “You have no idea.”

Woody smiled and Mike quickly shoved a spring roll in his mouth to stop himself smiling back. Slash had totally set him up on a date with the damn pizza guy just to get him out of the lair. Jerk. Mike had conceded and started texting the guy and they had fallen into the habit of texting every day, and Mike was getting better at it.

But talking over text and having to hold a conversation with a guy, who had really nice hair, and was only an arm’s length away over Thai food, were two totally different things and Mike _sucked_ at it. Not that Woody seemed fazed by Mike’s lack lustre responses. He just kept talking.

“Yeah, college is wild dude. Glad I live at home still.”

“Can’t relate.”

Woody laughed and Mike smiled weakly.

“You should totally come to a party. For Halloween.”

“April will have a fit.”

“April yelled at me last week because I put too many olives on her pizza,” Woody grumbled, spooning too much curry and rice in his mouth. Mike frowned.

“Doesn’t sound like April.” Maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling the strain of the anniversary being a month away.

Which was a stupid thought because everyone was putting so much effort into distracting Mike that of course he wasn’t the only one being strung out. He knew he was exhausting.

 “Well, dad wasn’t in the store so I told her where she could stick her olives.”

“In the fridge.”

“Mike, no.”

-:-

“And before I forget, you’re a jerk!” Mike yelled. He huffed and glared as best he could at Slash from two buildings away.

Slash had the nerve to not only force him out of the lair, but to ghost him the entire freaking time. The fact that he had no shame about it annoyed Mike even more.

“How was dinner?” Slash yelled back, not bothering to step out from his hiding spot.

Mike felt right screaming, but it conflicted with how badly he wanted to go to bed. He wanted to flip his brother off but he didn’t have enough fingers.

-:-

Mike felt… normal. He was up and making breakfast. He wasn’t exhausted, he wasn’t any sadder than he should be on the anniversary of, well, you know. Getting out of bed wasn’t a struggle.

He was fine.

Just fine.

“I feel fine but if there’s someone hovering behind me every time I turn around today, I’m going to lose my mind,” Mike spat, giving April the side eye.

“What’s for breakfast?” April asked with the false cheer that drove him mad. He knew she didn’t do it for his sake, it was just how she coped. But the tight smile and dead eyes made him sad, which made him mad in a way because he already had enough to be sad about.

“Bacon and eggs,” Mike said calmly. He wasn’t going to start a fight. Not today. “I guess you’re here to mooch a meal.”

“What, why?”

“Because everyone else does it,” Mike smiled.

“Oh,” April deflated and Mike hadn’t realised he was tensed to begin with. “You were joking.”

“Yeah I do that still.” Mike could sense a ‘you used to’ kind of talk coming because April seemed to really liked those. “You want some or not?”

April nodded, pulling out a stool and sitting down. “So, you’re really fine?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m really looking forward to being asked that fifty times today.”

“We’re worried about you,” April said with a frown.

Mike spun around and opened his mouth to say something. He stopped when April’s shoulders hunched up.

When was the last time he spent time alone with April that didn’t end with a fight? It had been a while.

“I’m not gonna fight today,” Mike said simply, feeling the anger in his gut stop suddenly. “Not today. We’re going to have as nice a time as we can.”

-:-

A week after the second-year anniversary the guy at the pizza shop convinced him he should go see his father. A weekend thing so he would have some alone time. Having spent nearly two months talking to the guy Mike agreed it might be nice. 

Mike didn’t ask for permission. He just asked Rockwell to help Leatherhead look after the boys. He looked sceptical, given Mike’s initial aversion to any socialisation but didn’t push it. April however was less than impressed about him going off with some stranger.

Everything was fine. The car trip was quiet. Nervousness ebbed through Mikey as the city grew smaller and smaller. It was the longest he had ever planned to be away from his boys. 

Woody dropped him off at the farm house and went back into town, saying he had a friend he wanted to catch up with. That gave him a few hours. He sat with his father for a while. Just staring. Feeling... nothing. 

He had reached his peak. He had felt as much as he possibly could and now all he had was numbness. There was nothing here that stressed him out. He knew his boys were being taken care of. Woody was taking care of everything for the weekend. And he thought he'd be happy and relieved. He had packed a book to read. 

But there was honest to god nothing in him. No urge to cry. No anger. 

It started to rain slowly but he didn't move. 

"Is this your way of telling me to go back, father? Because it isn't going to work. I'm going through my moody phase." There was no humour in his voice as the rain started to pelt down hard enough to hurt. 

He turned to leave when his phone started to vibrate. There was no way he could take a phone call in this weather. It was just Woody in the end making sure he was ok. 

Mikey started making dinner on auto pilot. 

"It was hard huh?"  Woody asked quietly, pulling two beers out of the fridge. 

"Kind of." He accepted the beer and drank from it without thinking. He didn't like the taste and he didn't care. 

"You go sit down. I'll make dinner." Woody offered, guiding Mikey by the shoulders towards the lounge room. "Watch some tv. Text April. She knows you did that thing in your phone so it doesn't tell you when she calls or texts."

He did do that. April had been a nightmare the past week. He pulled out his phone and frowned at the ten missed calls and fifteen messages. He took a deep mouthful of his beer. 

_We made it to the farm house hours ago. I sat with Splinter for a while. Woody is making dinner. I'm alright._

_That's a lie._

He tossed his phone onto the floor and sprawled himself across the couch. Staring at the ceiling he blocked everything out, closing his eyes and drinking from his bottle. His cheeks felt warm as he downed his last mouthful of beer. It was awful but the tingly feeling in his face was the most he felt all day. 

"Hey Woody, is there more beer?"

"Plenty."

Mikey got drunk for the first time in his life. He insisted Woody drink with him which the guy eagerly agreed to. They danced to music from the beat-up record player they found in the attic. They danced in the rain. The world moved, and it was out of his control and his whole head felt funny and he couldn't stand without swaying. It was the escape he needed. He didn't think, everything that worried him didn't exist in these hours. 

They were in the bathroom looking for towels to dry themselves off when he stumbled, catching Woody by the sleeve and bringing him down as he fell. And his memory was fuzzy, but it started with a kiss and there were snippets of trepidation and elation. They were drunk and messy, but so happy because nothing else existed. 

"We should go somewhere." He says when it's all over. They're lying in some bed breathing in each other’s scent with heavy eyes and crocked smiles. 

"Where would we go?"

"I just don't want to go home." He didn't want to have to sober up and choose between the nothing or the overwhelming everything. He wanted to last this fantasy out for as long as he could. 

"I know some people."

The next morning Mikey lay in the backseat of Woody's car, fighting a hangover and an exhausted body. They don't reach where they wanted to be until it was dark all over again. He was getting calls from April. 

"Where the hell are you?" Was her voice always this shrill? "You should have been back two hours ago!"

"I'm taking a break."

"What?!"

"Catch ya later, April."

They were in some heavily wooded area Mikey doesn't recognise. He went to the boot of the car and took out a beer. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t cold. People were already there sitting around a fire or dancing to the music playing softly from a car radio. There were about six of them. 

He was too drunk to care and everyone there was either too drunk or too high to acknowledge him as anything other than normal. 

"Guys this is my friend Mike."

"Geez this is some good shit."

That started his nearly four-week road trip, fuelled by drugs, alcohol and sex with a group of self-proclaimed social outcasts. He drifted between lying in the grass telling wild fantasy stories at anyone who'd listen, to drinking games and pill popping by the fire, and occasionally found himself being led into a secluded part of whatever wooded area they'd parked in for the night. 

There was one girl he regularly slipped away with. She called herself Seri and they were both pretty sure she'd made that name up. She had the darkest skin and curliest hair and the bluest eyes he thought he could drown in them. And one particularly warm, acid clouded night he nearly convinced himself that he did. 

He forgot about the world with her, a world he had reduced to just this group of hermits and vagabonds. She danced so freely but still as if everything she did had a purpose. And that purpose was to hypnotise him. A fact he was ok with. Sure, he'd go off with Woody or some other person most of who stayed faceless to him, but he always seemed to go back to her. 

But all good things must end. But he wasn't heart broken. Something told him in his heart that it was ok. Their little affair was to stay where it was. 

"Come on, Mike. We need to go back to New York."

"Whatever."

He was still too under the influence to realise the implications of what that meant for him. But slowly as they drove the long way back home it started to set in for him. 

"Woody, what the hell have I done?"

He made Woody pull over at the first man hole he knew would take him home. Which was a bad idea. Coming down from whatever he was on plus the smell he was no longer used to made him dizzy. Most of his walk home was against the wall with a bit of crawling. He managed to stand straight as he approached the turnstiles of the lair. 

No one was there to greet him. But the place looked clean. He frowned, a throbbing feeling building in his throat. Wandered to the bathroom and slid into the bath. 

He woke up who knew how much longer later covered in vomit with Casey sitting on the toilet across the room, frowning at him. The lights were too bright, the porcelain cool against his skin. 

"What's up?"

"Unnnhg" he started to retch. 

"You're lucky I came in when I did. You might have chocked on your own puke."

"I'm sorry."

"Where have you been?"

"Where am I now?"

"You're in your bathroom, Mikey."

"Oh."

He didn’t remember much after that. 

-:-

"Want to tell me where you've been for the last four weeks?"

There wasn't much he could read in Casey’s voice. Mostly concern. He didn't sound disappointed… maybe a little sad. 

"I really don't know. We just went."

"Are you ok?"

"No."

He cried. No, he more than cried. It was that gross soundless sobbing that felt like he couldn't breathe. 

"Wait here. There's someone who wants to see you."

God don't let it be April. He balled the top of his blanket and burrowed into his mattress. 

When did he go to bed? 

"Hey. Leo look, daddy's back."

"Casey n-"

He peeked his head out from the blanket, he didn't want the boys to see him like this. He was pretty sure he wasn't sober by any means, but Leo's big blue eyes were looking at him, worried and happy. "Daddy are you sick?"

"Yeah buddy." He sat up, crossing his legs and taking Leo into his lap. "I'm getting better though."

"Where did you go?"

"I..." He felt the tears build up in his eyes and then, "Oh heck."

"What?" Casey frowned. 

"I got a tattoo."

"What? Is that what that bandage on your arm is?"

He hugged Leo close, who had no idea what was happening. He was just happy to have his dad back. Mikey stared at the wall until he realised Casey was laughing at him. 

"I can't believe how well your taking this."

"Dude, you must have been really wired."

"Case this guy had a tattoo machine in the back of his van and I said yes and oh god" he squeezed Leo a little tighter. "April is gonna flip."

"Oh, you're not seeing April for a while she'll kill you."

"Not if I don't first." They both jumped as Rockwell entered the room. 

"Rockwell."

"I'm being dramatic." Rockwell approached him and pressed the back of his hand to Mikey's forehead. "You aren't going to feel very well for the next few days. You're not allowed to leave your room until I say. And I've gotten my hands on an IV drip."

"I'm sorry."

"Enough of that." Rockwell scolded him lightly. "Considering the cocktail of lord knows what you were on the last month you managed to check in with either Casey or I every night. You never left your phone on long enough to track though."

"I just... There was nothing, Rockwell. And Woody just offered me a beer and-"

"It's ok. I can sense you had no malice or ill intent."

"What else can you sense?" Mikey asked. The calmness in Rockwell’s voice made his skin crawl like his was a kid again and got caught eating too much candy before dinner.

"Enough."

Mikey groaned and tilted Leo's head to look him in the eye. "Hey, do you want to go and get Donnie and Raph?"

"You won't go?"

"You heard Uncle Rocky. I'm too sick to leave my room."

Leo searched his face and god the boy didn't trust him anymore. He slowly slipped off the bed and puttered out of the room. 

"Tell me, what damage have I done?"

"It's not the huge disaster you're thinking," Casey chuckled. "Leatherhead is worried but not hurt or anything. Pete is pretty oblivious."

"No, he's not don't say that." Mikey rubbed the heels of his hands I his eyes. "And April? Is she really mad?"

"I'm serious I'm not telling her you're back yet." Casey rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Rockwell. "I'll take that bullet. With how she is right now and how Mike is it isn't going to end well. But hey, let the guy shower before you start poking needles into him. He still smells like vomit, cigarettes and sin."

-:-

He was surprised that Rockwell didn’t know he was awake. Maybe he wasn’t awake and this was a dream. Or maybe he was awake and this was an hallucination. Or a lucid dream. 

_Oh, who cares?_

“Please tell me you have an idea why he did this?” 

“He’s depressed.”

“No kidding.”

“Do not get smart. He is a grieving boy who doesn’t know how to handle himself properly. Through drugs and alcohol, he was given the means to feel good so he grabbed that opportunity with both hands.” Silence. “I should have stepped up sooner. I feared he would feel like I was attempting to replace Splinter. That boy needs guidance.”

“Good luck explaining that to April. She’s mad about him leaving the boys.”

“Dare I say it, Casey, but April has no leg to stand on. Michelangelo’s situation with his sons is not simple. Were he a normal teenage boy who came across being a parent as normal teenagers do, it would be another matter. The boys are marks of what Michelangelo has lost, cruel as it sounds. His whole family died, and he then had those children thrust upon him demanding love and attention he didn’t know how to give. He’s tried his hardest, it’s time those around him picked up the slack.” 

“So what do we do?”

“I will have Pete move in here for a while. Michelangelo will come stay with me during the first few months of being medicated, so he can stabilise properly without any undue stress. What you and April choose to do with you time is up to you.”

“He can still train right?” 

“Of course. The exercise will do him good.”

“And then what happens? When he’s better?”

“We ask him what he wants to do. Should he choose to take the boy on again, we do it slowly, together. We will not expect him to handle it on his own.” 

“And if he doesn’t?”

“I should say that he will want some presence in their lives, he isn’t about to leave them completely. But he’s only eighteen. It’s not unfair for him to not want to be a father. Not like this.” 

Mikey felt his eyelids droop. “Not like this.”

-:-

“Bipolar?”

Mikey hadn’t expected a proper word for wat was wrong with him. He thought maybe he’d just get told to get over it. But he started to think that he hadn’t imagined Rockwell and Casey talking the night before.

Was it the night before? Maybe a few nights?

“Yes. Given that you have had Rivet help out around the place, and you’ve been going on patrol more often it may have been hard to miss. Or maybe you’ve been bipolar for a lot longer than this, but because you don’t live and function in human society it was missed. What your family thought was ADHD and then laziness could have been the beginnings.”

“But because I went off the rails…”

“I can see this is more than simply depression.” Rockwell shifted in his chair and tried to smile at Mikey.

“But I haven’t been manic or whatever you called it in ages.” Mikey wrung his hands in his lap. “Except for, you know, the last month.”

“A swing can last for weeks or months. Bipolar isn’t a steady pendulum.” Rockwell frowned a bit, reaching forward to tug on Mikey’s hands. “Your moods do change suddenly. They have the whole time I’ve known you.”

“So what do we do?”

“I have means to get you the medication you will need to manage your moods.”

“You can’t use your powers? Like you did on the squirrelnoids?”

“No” Rockwell said sharply. “What April and I did to the squirrelnoids was cruel and invasive. I used my knowledge in neuroscience to rearrange their minds. I have never read your mind like that. I can’t help picking up on the most outward emotion you’re feeling, but I never invaded your privacy.”

“I know this could have all been avoided if you had but thank you.”

“I will be making more of an effort though. I will no longer be content with letting you be. I am putting myself in charge of your care.”

“I can look after myself,” Mike said stiffly, pulling his hands out of Rockwell’s hold.

“You have proven that to be false. And I don’t want you to interact with that Woodrow boy outside of the pizza shop for a while.”

“I was happy.”

“You were high.”

“Actually, I was drunk.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what? You’re my adult now?”

“Yes. I should have been doing this from the beginning.”

-:-

The day Mikey was given the ok to leave his bedroom was the day Rockwell told him to pack some things. Then have a shower and spend some time with the boys.

“Then we’re leaving,” Rockwell said firmly.

Mikey felt tired. He didn’t want to do any of this. He just wanted to stay in bed a little longer.

How long had he been in bed?

He searched his brain, trying to figure it out but he couldn’t. Maybe it was time to listen.

Maybe is was time to stop staring at the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I've had parts of this chapter lying around since I first started writing this fic, haha. That's how it is with most of the chapter honestly. The pros of writing a slice of life type fic I guess.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it! Happier things are on the horizon.  
> I feel like I say that a lot and it only ends up being a 300 word snippet.


	10. 謝罪

Rockwell’s ‘lair’ was nice. Mike frowned.

“Did you plaster the walls? And paint them?”

Rockwell had found another abandoned portion of the subway system to make a home out of. It wasn’t anywhere near as big as Mike’s lair, but it was big enough for Slash to walk around comfortably.

Speaking of.

The first thing Slash did when he saw Mikey was rush over to the couch whack him across the back of the head.

“Oww!”

“You deserve it.”

“Yeah, but I don’t appreciate it!” Mikey jumped up and over the back of Rockwell’s couch. “I’m gonna tell on you!”

“Sit down, squirt. Show me this tattoo Casey keeps going on about.”

Mike’s smile dropped with his shoulders and he rubbed at the bandage around the top of his arm. “Its just the family crest.”

“Still kinda cool,” Slash huffed. He dropped onto the crouch, flinching when it groaned under his weight.

“Why aren’t you mad or something?” Mike rounded the couch and stood over Slash. “April probably wants to kill me-“

“April can choke.”

“Rockwell has gone full dad mode, which I don’t know what to do with, really. And everyone else is weirdly ok, I don’t get it!”

“You want someone to be mad at you?” Slash asked, surprised.

“I don’t know! I did the wrong thing!”

“Well, if you want someone to yell at you find April. Because I’m not the one.”

“Why not!?” Mikey screeched, stamping his foot on the ground.

“Remember that time I tried to kill you because I was jealous?”

“Wha-?”

Oh.

_Oh._

“I don’t think you _did_ anything wrong, Mike.” Slash reached out and tugged Mikey down onto the couch next to him. “Its what you didn’t do. And I’m not even mad about that. I’m worried little bro.”

Mikey frowned, wrapping his arms around himself. “I was talking to Rockwell. I was talking to Leatherhead. I talked to you. I think… I don’t think I meant to but, I just didn’t tell you guys everything. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be telling.” Mike sat up a little straighter, looking Slash in the eye. “Everyone needs to stop beating themselves up though. Rockwell was a neuroscientist, not a psychologist. It’s not fair he’s shouldering all this blame.”

“Who should shoulder it then?” Slash asked cautiously, not accusing.

“No one! This is no one’s fault!” Mike rubbed at his eyes. “I’m messed up, ok? Everything is really, really wrong inside and out. But that just happens sometimes, people up top have perfectly fine lives and get sick like this too. Blaming people won’t help me!”

“No, it won’t.” Slash reached out suddenly and pulled Mikey into a hug. Mikey yelped a little, but hugged Slash back. “I’m glad you’re ok, Mike. I was pretty worried.”

Mike sat of a moment, stunned. Slash wasn’t ever one to admit being worried like this. At least not verbal confirmation _and_ a hug. Maybe one or the other but never both. Mike squeezed him back hard. Slash didn’t make any effort to pull away, settling into the hug even more.

Which made Mikey fell better and worse. On one hand he really needed this. On the other, Slash was he brother now. And Mike had run out and ditched him with no word for a month to get high and laid. During the worst time of year when they were both grieving for their dead family.

“I’m sorry.”

“Kid-“

“No, let me say this. I’m sorry.” Mike buried his face into Slash’s arm. Slash squeezed him a little tighter.

“I ain’t mad at ya.”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be sorry.”

Slash hummed. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be helping you get new furniture for your room.”

“I don’t know. This couch is pretty neat.”

“He’s right, you do need an adult.”

“Shut up!”

-:-

His new room was just that. New. It wasn’t lived in, or laden with memories and signs of wear. The sheets smelt new. There was clean, soft yellow paint on the walls. Generic but humble canvas prints of flowers hung on the wall above his bed. Those were the things Rockwell had. It was all so… _human_.

What Mikey brought to the space? A few worn books and a lamp he found particularly charming. A thin photo album he tucked away under his pillow. The blanket Casey and Shadow had given him. The bear Leatherhead gave him. Sitting primly on the bedside table was the get well soon cards each of the boys had made him.

He felt muddled.

-:-

“How are you adjusting?” April asked curtly.

Mike had expected World War III. Yelling, screaming, maybe a few punches. But April did everything to avoid looking him in the eye, or at his tattooed shoulder. She fluffed pillows and fussed with the fake pot plants Rockwell had around the place.

Mike’s mouth felt dry, but he had to stay focused, so he could make this work.

“I’ve been here three days. I’m not sure how I’m adjusting.” Mike spoke quietly, sitting on the couch and staring at the blank TV. The sound of April’s shuffling feet was getting on his nerves. “Will you sit down already!?”

Why did Rockwell have to leave? Mike really needed someone to mediate this… thing. He was tempted to call Slash but apparently his brother had been laying into April quite a bit for the last few weeks.

“I’m not ok.” Mike said plainly after a lengthy silence. April shifted on the couch next to him and they both kept their eyes firmly on the TV. “I don’t think I’ve been ok for a long time, April.”

“We can fix this,” April said boldly, suddenly straightening her shoulders.

“I’m not broken,” Mikey spat. “I’m just not… ok. Rockwell says I might be bipolar.”

April’s eyebrows shot up in the reflection on the TV screen. Mikey had assumed no one said anything to her about it.

“I thought…”

“You thought what?” he asked curiously. April was really good at reading the most outward emotion a person was feeling. Her skills weren’t as finely tuned as Rockwell’s, so Mikey had no idea what she assumed.

“I just thought you gave up.”

Screw making it work, Mikey wanted to hit her.

“Are you kidding me?”

“But I think i-it was me.” Mikey flinched at her stutter. “I went through some of Donnie’s old notes. He was working on a theory that…”

“That what?”

“That after an extended period of time a mutant might not be able to be retro-mutated.”

What did tha- “Oh, your dad.”

“Yeah. I tried looking for him. I haven’t seen him in six months and those weird monster hunters online haven’t seen him either.” April took a deep breathe and finally turned to look at Mikey. “I think I’ve been confused about what emotions were in the air around you. There was always so much going on but the most prominent was the feeling of giving up. Which made me angry, then you would get angry and it would go away.”

“This whole time, we’ve been picking fights because you thought I was throwing in the towel?”

“After you ran off, I asked Rockwell to look through my head. It took him two seconds to tell me I was wrong and that’s off second-hand emotions.”

Mike frowned. “Apr-“

“So, I’m sorry. I’ve been a jerk.”

“Oh, because I’m perfect?” Mikey arched a brow.

“No but I should have asked. I made an assumption and it was wrong. I didn’t want to believe that I was giving up and admit that my dad is as good as dead and…” April clenched her fists. “And I forced that on you and drove you away and that was, _is,_ the last thing I want.”

“Ok.”

He didn’t have it in him to say anything else. Maybe she could sense that. But judging by the scowl on her face and her white knuckled fists, April was trying her best not to sense anything.

 “We’re gonna be ok, April” he offered after the silence went for too long. “We’re pretty tough all things considered.”

April swallowed, nodded, and left.

-:-

Rockwell gave him a fairly strict routine and goddamned chores. The worse part about it was he didn’t have a vacuum, Mike had to sweep the place for dust.

“We can make you a vacuum!” Angel said brightly, tugging at Rivet’s arm. The three of them were walking to Mike’s lair. After being consistent enough with his chores, Rockwell was finally happy for Mike to start light training again.

“I think he’s trying to keep me active, but you can ask him.”

Rivet beeped some. Mike was sure the guy was already planning the perfect prototype in his head.

“How’s the renovating going? Or has it stalled?”

“No, it’s going great!” Angel exclaimed. “We’re working on the lab. Rivet’s building me a loft because the ceilings so tall.”

Mike smirked at Rivet. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I wanted a hammock, but he said it wouldn’t be good for my back.”

Mike laughed.

-:-

“You’re spoiling her,” Mike said casually, wrapping a bandage around his wrist. Rivet made no effort to acknowledge him. “I think it’s cute.”

_“She’s been staying less”_ was what Mike got from Rivet’s beeping. Mike mulled it over, trying to ignore Rivet’s piercing stare as he stretched out on the dojo floor.

“Because I’ve been gone?”

_“I don’t think so._ ”

“Do you want me to talk to her or do you want the words, so you can talk to her?” Mike asked.

_“Words.”_

It hurt a little. But he’d been gone a month. He couldn’t expect to still be needed the same way as before he left. His family probably didn’t expect much from him at this point. Which probably hurt the most because he didn’t even have a good reason for it. He went on a bender, not a soul-searching mission. He hadn’t come back with some major life lesson that justified putting his family and himself through it all. Anything he had learned he had been told.

All he had to show was a tattoo and square one.

Mike shook himself from those thoughts “I guess just make sure she knows she’s always welcome here. And I know Donnie filled that head of yours with ninjutsu. Teach her some stuff. I know Shadow has and that really can’t go unchecked.”

Rivet just nodded. Mike couldn’t tell if he had been expecting more or if he was just awkward about the elephant in the room. Mike stopped his stretching and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

He’d had this conversation enough times that he knew how it would have gone if he was talking to anyone but Rivet. But Rivet said nothing. He just tilted his head and listened.

“Everyone keeps telling me not to for one reason or another but I am. I hurt you guys. I didn’t want to do that. I just…”

_“Wanted some freedom?”_

“Yes! Sort of.” Mikey tapped his fingers against the floor. “I used to do stupid stuff all the time, you know? And I kind of got away with it because I wasn’t really in charge of anything. I’m still just a kid, Riv.”

Rivet didn’t have a mouth, so he couldn’t actually smile. But from the soft, warm yellow his eyes had gone and how he patted Mikey’s head, Mikey imagined he was.

-:-

Even though he wasn’t ready to take on the boys again – and he _would_ , that was his goal, to be well enough to be there for them again – Rockwell insisted he maintained regular socialisation with everyone. In an attempt to start a new tradition of sorts, Rockwell decided that once a month everyone had to go to Mikey’s lair for a potluck dinner.

Mikey had wanted to do something to help. Partly because it was the right thing to do, but mostly because _those idiots were going to blow up his kitchen._

“Rockwell! Casey’s using a sword to cut food again!”

Mikey groaned, catching the attention of Raph. The boy peeled his eyes away from the cartoon on TV to stare at Mikey. He just smiled down at the boy in his lap. Raph seemed happy enough with the response, turning back to the TV and snuggling into Mikey’s hold a little more.

_At least being banned from the kitchen is worth the cuddles,_ he thought. He leant his head to rest his cheek on top of Raph’s head. Leo and Donnie were sitting o his left, playing with Lego he didn’t remember having.

The boys were easier in a sense. For the first couple of weeks, when Mikey would come over to the lair it would be wonderful. But when he’d leave everything turned into an ear piercing, snotty, teary, heartbreaking nightmare.

Mike thought he deserved it in some sick way. Not for the running off and partying bit. After two months of being home he’d come to terms with that. But he didn’t think he’d tried hard enough in those two months he’d been back.

And no one had really pushed him. None of them could predict how Mikey would do on mood stabilisers. Rockwell had said it was important to build up the list of Mikey’s responsibilities again slowly.

“Not that you couldn’t manage before,” Rockwell said encouragingly. “But your mental battery ran dry. You worked too hard to be ok.”

“Dad?”

Mike jumped a little out of his thoughts. “Yeah, Raphie?”

“Can we watch somethin’ else?”

Mikey blinked a little. He looked up from Raphie and up at the TV. They were watching Raphie’s favourite princess show. This was his favourite episode.

“You sure, bud? I thought you liked this one.”

Raph shrugged. “You’re not watching.”

Oh god.

Oh geez.

“No, no, I am watching, Raphie. I promise. Tell me what’s gonna happen, who’s the bad guy?”

Raphie frowned a bit and turned back to the TV, hesitantly explaining why the lizard wizard was bad. Mikey listened and stubbornly ignored the tight feeling in his chest and gut. Raphie was still _a baby_. He thought Mikey didn’t like his favourite show and instead of throwing a tantrum like he had so many times when Mikey didn’t or couldn’t make the time to watch it with him, Raphie wanted to appease Mikey.

Was he worried Mikey would leave again if he got bored?

Was that what he thought to begin with?

Did he think Mike didn’t love them anymore? Because they asked for too much?

Raphie shouldn’t have been thinking that, he was a brat. The absolute brattiest. Mikey liked him like that, he loved him like that.

“Super princess charge!” Raphie yelled suddenly in tie with the TV, breaking off Mikey’s train of thought.

“Is she winning?”

“She’s gonna,” Raphie said with a conviction Mikey suspected was more from unshakable belief in the heroine than the fact Raphie had gone through a phase of watching this one episode four times a day.

“When’s the next episode come out?” Mike asked, squeezing Raphie a little closer.

“Tomorrow,” Raphie replied absently, engrossed by the fight scene.

“Then I’ll be around tomorrow to watch it with you.”

Raphie spun around so quickly he nearly headbutted Mikey. “Really?”

“Really.” Mike smiled fondly. “We can make cupcakes before it starts.”

“Awesome,” Raphie said quietly. “You promise?”

“Promise.”

Mikey was never one to break his promises. Not when they were this important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to write smaller chapters and post more for this fic. For no other reason than I've missed writing this.


	11. ベンデッタ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait.

Mikey kept his promise. He thought he’d get into the lair early, so he could prepare everything he needed in the kitchen. A plan meant to minimise the potential mess, which didn’t feel like a natural train of thought for Mikey.

He didn’t expect Raphie to be already up, sitting in front of the TV watching back episodes of his show. Mikey quickly jumped the safety gate at the turnstiles, his landing catching Raphie’s hearing. The boy shot up and sprinted to Mikey.

“You’re here!” Raphie squealed as Mikey picked him up and sat the boy on his hip. “Are we gonna cook?”

“Yeah. But I’ve just got to get the kitchen ready first. I can only imagine how everyone left it last night.”

Raphie nodded solemnly. “It’s bad.”

“Great.” Mikey threw his head back and groaned in exasperation, earning a giggle from Raphie.

It was a good start to the day.

-:-

“Ok bud, we’ve gotta pour the flour first then be add in the other stuff.”

“Ok, Dad.”

Mikey crowded behind Raphie, who he had standing on a stool. He carefully guided Raphie through the recipe. Raphie listened carefully, treating every instruction like it was the word of God.

It was nice. Peaceful. An incredibly important bonding experience.

And Mikey loved the guy he really did, but he couldn’t help the groan of frustration that slipped his lips when Pete barrelled in.

“I can hear the oven running! What are we making?”

“Cupcakes!”

“Cupcakes?” Pete mimicked Raphie’s enthusiasm. He leaned over the counter and peered into the bowl. “Not normally what I go for, but a crumbs a crumb. What flavour?”

“Vanilla,” Mikey said, trying to not grit his teeth. “What are you doing here, Pete?”

“I’m meeting April here.” Pete tilted his head and leaned against the kitchen counter. “The pizza boy asked about you and she wants to tell you not to talk to him.”

“Uhhh.” Raphie started to squirm in Mikey’s arms, clearly getting bored. “Hold on buddy. What are you talking about?”

“April knows you’re here to hang out with Raphie. She’s going to try and talk to you. You don’t need that right now. I’m gonna drag her off somewhere.”

“Where exactly? Should I be worried?”

Pete just shrugged. “Nah.” Mikey nodded and turned his attention to helping Raphie stir the batter. “You should be careful though.”

“Why?”

“You like this guy, right?” Mikey stalled his movements and stared wide eyed at Pete. “I just don’t want to see you get your heart broken.”

Pete shot up and flew suddenly out of the kitchen, leaving Mikey stunned and stuttering.

-:-

Mikey wasn’t stupid. Naive maybe but not stupid. He knew that his stupid little crush on Woody was never going to end in a marriage with a white picket fence, 2.5 kids and a dog. That was never going to be his life. His life was the sewers with three kids and New York’s most genetically unfortunate. 

He knew that. 

Which meant he couldn’t get his heart broken. 

And it was sweet that Pete was worried about Mikey’s heart but the whole Woody situation didn’t run that deep. Mikey liked hanging out with him. It made him feel younger, like the teenager he could have been if he weren’t a mutant. 

So, against his better judgement and the opinions of everyone around, he hung around Woody, still going topside for weekly pizzas. 

“I need to do something outside of the sewers that isn’t fighting, or food runs or any other mutant madness. Ok. He’s just a dumb teenager who thinks I’m also just a dumb, green teenager. What do you want me to do? Oh, hey Woody, remember that time you lead me away for a month where I abused illegal substances and abandoned my responsibilities, including three toddlers who happen to be my kids? Oh, you didn’t know about that last part? Yeah that’ll go down well!”

He hadn’t realised he was shouting. Dammit. 

“Just make sure you use protection,” Slash replied glibly. Mikey threw a chair at his head. 

Just like old times.

-:-

Mikey knew he didn’t have the best attention to detail. And his spatial awareness had dropped dramatically since he stopped regular patrols. 

So, he knew when he saw a shadow flit in the corner of his vision, when he heard the quiet foot falls that his follower wasn’t hiding from him. 

But as quickly as Mikey realised she was there, she was gone. 

After almost three years, Karai was back in New York. 

-:-

“You can’t hide in the sewers forever. She killed your father!”

“You don’t know that, April.”

“Oh please! It was either her or Shredder!”

“And I don’t want to know! If all you want is a fight, leave me alone.”

To her credit April did leave, but Mikey knew someone else would be down soon enough. 

Which was fair because he had practically locked himself in the dojo for two days, training nonstop. He was wasting his latest curfew allowances. But he made a point of eating, playing with the boys and sleeping. Rockwell conceded he was working through this as productively as he could and let him be.

That being said, Mikey had only opened the door to April in the first place because he’d had the passing thought that since the boys could walk, it was time to start training them. 

That really scared him. He didn’t want to impose that kind of fear on them. And none of them had really shown enough interest in training for Mikey to consider letting them do it even as a hobby. 

Karai was going to be his problem. Never his children’s. 

Another hour of katas and sword practice later, Slash walked in. Calm and concrete, the way he always was. 

“Wanna know something weird?”

“What, kid?”

“You just know what I need. And you used to hate me. “

“Thanks, I guess?” Slash shrugged a little. He smiled but Mikey couldn’t help but feel the guy looked nauseous.

“You gonna train with me?”

“Nah. We need to talk about Karai.”

“She’s back.” Mikey couldn’t come up with much else. That was kind of it and his brain was doing one hell of a job not feeling anything about that one specific fact.

“Rockwell says she came on business and just happened to find you. His mole hasn’t been privy to much else.”

“I’m gonna kill her.”

“Geez, Mike.”

“I don’t mean I’m gonna hunt her down and kill her in her sleep, Slash. She stays out of my life it’ll be fine. But we both know that won’t happen.”

“I can get Rockwell to set the squirrelnoids on a patrol of the sewers, and they can alert us of anything.”

“Good. I don’t know what she knows. I know Leo had that weird crush so who knows what he might have let slip.”

“You think he was that dumb?”

“No. I just think she might have been that good.”

-:-

Woody never got the whole story. Mikey brushed off any of his concern, simply saying April was being a grouch and he’d spent so much time underground post “road trip” in an attempt to appease her.

“She yell at you again?” Mikey asked quietly, trying his hardest not too twitch at every little sound. Sure, paranoia was justified but he really didn’t need the added stress.

“Nah, she doesn’t come in anymore. I see a lot more of Casey and Slash, though.” Woody spoke through a mouthful of rice. Just rice because Mikey had blanked and instead of ordering rice and curry to share from the new Indian place, he’d gotten two serves of rice.

Just plain rice.

Today was not a good day.

Today was a _bad_ day.

He shouldn’t have left the dojo.

He needed to call Slash.

He needed to not be sitting on a goddamn roof out in the open where an army of ninjas might try to kill him.

This sucked. Socialising was meant to be good, a way for him to relax. Not be another thing he had to worry about.

Stupid Karai.

-:-

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am.” Mikey smiled and hiked his duffle bag a little further up his shoulder. “I can’t run the risk of not being there if the Foot try something. This really is the safest option.”

He was moving back into the lair, officially.

“I will be checking in on you,” Rockwell said.

“Good.” Mikey smiled. “I’d really like that. Maybe you can come for dinner? Without everyone else being there?”

“That would be wonderful.”

-:-

Karai had chased him out of the pack, leaving her ninja to handle April and Casey. 

She had changed so much in three years. Her hair was longer, cleanly cut at the shoulder without the blonde undergrowth. She wore less make up and levelled with him in height. 

"I really don't want to fight, Karai." 

"You don't have a choice."

How could she hate him so much? They hadn't even laid eyes on each other for three years.  

"Do we really have to?"

"You're supposed to be dead!"

Wait. 

"Like you want me dead supposed to be dead or you seriously thought I was dead supposed to be dead? Because if it's the last one a couple of things are starting to make a lot of sense."

"Shut up!" She charged at him, sword drawn and in a rage. He swiftly dodged and kicked his foot out tripping her up. She landed with a heavy thud, her cheek catching on her own blade. 

"Looks like all that training didn't do you much good." He chuckled as she stood up. "Is it nice in Japan? I've never been."

"And you never will. How are you alive? You hadn't survived the regression treatment."

Mikey held his hands in front of his face and wiggled his fingers. He slowly started looking up and down his arms. "Hate to tell you this Rai Rai but someone lied to you. I never left that cell."

"Do not call me that."

She ran and swung at him again. He dodged, swinging behind her and jabbing her just between her shoulder and back armour plates. She yelped and her arm dropped at her side, her sword clanging as it hit the ground. 

"Geez Rai Rai, you're so angry. Angry people are so easy to fight. One track minds you lot have."

"I suppose that was Raphael's down fall."

Ok wait. He dropped his smile and stared at her. She smirked. 

"Are you really so stupid? Did you forget? Your brothers didn't survive either!" He had to work really hard to keep the look of dawning realisation off of his face. 

She didn't think the boys made it out alive. She thought they were _dead_. 

Good. 

"Hey at least I knew my family before they died."

Was he always this cruel? Maybe. But he didn't always have what he had now to protect. 

It worked in his favour that Karai, and Shredder by extension, didn't know about the boys. That would mean they'd send less muscle into the sewers looking for him, which the squirrelnoids would take care of easily. 

And if they didn't, he would. 

"I've got nothing left to lose Rai Rai. You leave me in peace, and I'll leave you in peace."

"You know that can't happen." Karai snarled and started to clench the fist of her numb arm. He hadn't hit her hard enough. 

"And why not? Don't say honour! I swear on my shell if you say honour-"

"How are you not broken!?" 

"Good question." Mikey smiled as April and Casey stood next to him weapons drawn and ready. "If I had the answer I’d tell you."

He swiftly pulled a smoke bomb out of his belt and threw it at the ground. The three of them jumped off the building. Quickly dropping into the manhole below. 

"Dude, did you put glitter in these new smoke bombs?"

"Yep!"

-:-

Why did vendettas have to run so deep and for so long? 

"What do you want for lunch boys?"

"Peas!"

Thank shell the boys were easy to feed. Mikey would loath the day his boys finally had sugar or any fast food. Sure, they'd had pizza. But it was usually homemade with whatever was close to going off in the fridge. Mikey just hadn't been able to afford the treats he used to. One of the few good things about being closed off from the world is that the boys didn't know any better. They saw stuff on tv but the curiosity of just what was a candy was easily quelled by a banana or an apple. 

"Geez I've changed."

Self-reflection was never his forte. For one thing, he was never _taught_ how to do it. His brothers were always taught, through training, through research, through their emotions.

Mikey was realising maybe Splinter hadn’t raised the four of them equally. He knew they were all equally loved, but Mikey had a working theory that Splinter didn’t let himself be a father in the dojo. They weren’t sons when they walked into that room, they were soldiers.

Mikey wasn’t sure how to process that working theory emotionally though.

Because he found himself staring at is ceiling, unable to sleep, playing out scenarios in his head, building strategies, mentally cataloguing his weapons and poisons. Like a good soldier at war, Mikey was planning for every possible way he might have to kill Karai and Saki.

Which wasn’t right. It wasn’t what he was taught to do. Splinter knew that someday they might have had to kill to protect each other, to protect the family or ‘the greater good’. So, he taught them how to work as a team to best divide the trauma (that’s how Mikey saw it anyway, maybe it was just efficiency).  Leonardo was always meant to be the coordinator, working closely with Donatello, who had the most knowledge on how the body worked and how to make it suffer. Raphael was the power, as always. Mikey was taught how to hang back, read a group and figure out the best way order to kill a group in.

And he used to think that was a lot to handle, just his role in whatever made up scenario Splinter thought would require those skills. But he was stuck with all of them now and he had never learned from Splinter how to handle those things on his own.

Maybe, Splinter never anticipated that Mikey would ever be the last one standing.


End file.
